Arabella 



SflDLIER 





Class 

Book 




Q 


\2-(o 


Copyright N? 


COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 

































% 




























































































































■ 


* % 


























































r 


















. 














































































































































































































4 
















* 


























V 






























































ARABELLA. 


BY 

ANNA T. SADUER. 

T\ 


Author of 

“The Lost Jewel of the Mortimers.” 


ST. LOUIS, MO., AND FREIBURG (BADEN) 
PUBLISHED BY B. HERDER, 

1907. 


'^■v\ 

* . 


LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Copies Received 

DEC 11 i 907 

Oopyri*M tntry 

fVov z 7 /f«7 

CLASS4 XXc. No. 

/^3U3 

COPY B. 


COPYRIGHT 1907 
BY 

JOSEPH GUMMERSBACH. 


C C c. 

c c c 




ST. LOUIS, MO. 

LUMBERMEN’S PRINTING CO 

1907. 


CONTENTS 


Chapter. Page. 

I. A First Journey 5 

II. Arrival in the City . . .' 13 

III. Mrs. Christie^ Sister 21 

IV. The Exchange of Confidences .... 29 

V. Arabella Overhears 35 

VI. A Shopping Expedition 43 

VII. Arabella Meets Her Grand Rela- 
tions 55 

VIII. Arabella is Introduced 65 

IX. Arabella Makes Her Choice 77 

X. The Days in Town 87 

XI. A Day With the Winslows 97 

XII. Mr. Frederick’s Daughter Ill 

XIII. Home Again 121 

XIV. Silas Christie’s Plan 131 

XV. The Purple Eady 137 

XVI. Arabella Becomes Mistress of a 

House 147 

XVII. The Grand Relations Come to 

Kenoosha 155 

XVIII. A Houseful of Guests 161 

XIX. Conclusion 169 



ARABELLA. 


Chapter I. 

A First Journey. 

Arabella stood thoughtfully there on that 
ridge of land, where the brown earth was 
studded with daisies and mulleins, the common 
children of the soil. The sky was a clear gold 
at the horizon, and Arabella, gazing thereon, 
pondered on something she had just heard. 
She had suddenly become an heiress. She 
looked down on her plain, brown frock, at her 
coarse shoes, and at her hands roughened by 
work about the house. She had been the 
orphan, the charity-child, and now — 

Her gaze slowly turned from the golden skies 
to the house, wherein she had spent her childish 
years. It was large, barn-like, of a dull, cheer- 
less brown, altogether bare and uninviting. 
The glint of the sun shone upon the attic win- 

( 5 ) 


6 


ARABELLA 


dow of the room wherein she had been lodged. 
It was the one spot which she regarded with 
affection. It represented home. Her eyes rested 
there now, wistfully, with something of longing 
and of affection. As she stood thus, she heard a 
voice calling and went slowly towards the house. 
There was Mrs. Christie waiting for her with a 
new expression upon her rugged face and a 
look in the dull eyes as if a light had been 
suddenly kindled there. 

“Arabella,” she called, “come in and eat 
your dinner. We’ll have to go to the city this 
afternoon. ’ ’ 

Arabella glanced at her quickly. Her breath 
came fast. She had never been to the city; she 
had always longed painfully to go, since to her 
it was a wonderland. Yet she felt a sudden 
catch in her throat. She thought, perhaps, she 
was going forever, and she remembered vividly, 
painfully, her familiar little room, bare and mis- 
erable though it was, her one friend, a woolly, 
brown-haired dog, and the woods and fields, 
whither she went in her few leisure hours. She 
asked, therefore, with something of a gasp in 
her voice “Not — not for always?” 

The woman looked at her curiously as she 
answered curtly “No, not for always.” 

Arabella without further remark followed 
her passively into the dining-room, where the 


A FIRST JOURNEY 


7 


table was laid as usual, with thick, crockery 
cups, chipped and otherwise unsightly, and 
where Silas Christie already sat, heavy-featured 
and taciturn, taking no manner of notice of the 
child. Even the recent change in her fortunes 
had excited no apparent interest in him. In ' 
the long years of his residence there he had 
grown in some sort to resemble those clods of 
earth upon which he daily worked during the 
long, summer months. Of late years he scarcely 
ever read the daily papers. He merely existed. 
The amount which he made yearly from his 
farming sufficed to give him a rude sort of com- 
fort. He asked no more. 

With Mrs. Christie it was otherwise. True, 
she, too, had been dulled by the dreary mono- 
tone of her cheerless existence. But within her 
smouldered, as sparks amongst ashes, some fire 
of imagination, some gleam of her old, girlish 
enthusiasm. 

Arabella had suddenly become to her an 
object of keen interest, as if a gold mine with 
more or less limited possibilities had been sud- 
denly discovered upon their premises. She 
began to dream dreams, realizing as Arabella 
had not yet done, the power of wealth. Tong 
dead visions woke within her of a black silk 
dress, a velvet hat with feathers, and other 
finery wherewith to dazzle the neighbors. She 


8 


ARABELLA 


had almost given up church, partly for reasons 
connected with her wardrobe, though, in fact, 
the neighbors mostly frequented every other 
place of worship than the Catholic. Still, 
the churchward road lay in the direction of 
many of the homesteads and she saw herself 
mentally proceeding there, resplendent. This 
was her one weakness. Otherwise she was a 
woman of unusual and unbending strength 
of character, which had lent her a certain 
hardness. 

Arabella devoured her share of the boiled beef 
and potatoes, and the coarse bread, washed 
down with water. Then she helped as usual 
with the dishes, after which she was bidden to 
go and make ready for the journey. Her little 
room had an oddly unfamiliar aspect that day. 
She looked around at the rough, unpainted 
washstand and chairs, the deal table, and that 
rudely-contrived recess in the corner for her 
clothes, hidden by a faded curtain. 

She proceeded presently to that receptacle, 
after the other preliminaries of her toilet, and 
took down her best jacket and skirt. They were 
of a nondescript color, and scarcely less shabby 
than the brown frock she was wearing. She 
surveyed them with complacency, however, her 
untrained eye failing to note their deficiencies. 
As she dressed, she regarded affectionately her 


A FIRST JOURNEY 


9 


few treasures — two or three colored prints cut 
out of a Christmas newspaper and stuck upon the 
wall; a cardboard box with a glass cover, en- 
shrining a rose, which had been a birthday 
gift from Mrs. Christie, and a book of fairy 
tales. This latter had created for her an entire 
new world, to which she compared people, things 
and events. 

She had scarcely completed her costume by 
an ugly and unpicturesque hat, trimmed by 
Mrs. Christie’s unskillful hand, when she heard 
the latter’s voice calling her at the foot of the 
stairs. She gave one last look about the room, 
as though she were bidding it farewell, and then 
ran down to join her travelling companion. Mrs. 
Christie was quite pale with emotion, and, to 
Arabella’s eyes, quite resplendent in an old- 
fashioned costume of dark green serge. As the 
two were about setting out, Trot, the brown 
spaniel, came leaping and barking about Ara- 
bella, supposing that she was going for a ramble 
in the woods, and that he was to be of the party. 

“You go and put that dog in the barn,” or- 
dered Mrs. Christie sharply, and Arabella, call- 
ing the dog after her, ran round the side of 
the house, and stooping down to pet the woolly 
head and bid her favorite good-bye, she shut the 
deceived and disappointed animal into the out- 
house, whence his dismal whines and scratching 


10 


ARABELLA 


at the door pursued Arabella until she was actual- 
ly off the premises. As the travellers finally 
started, Silas Christie, heavy-eyed and ponderous, 
stood in the doorway looking after them, and 
taking the pipe from his mouth to call out a 
word or two of warning. 

“Don’t take the wrong train, mother,” — this 
was his familiar name for his wife — “and don’t 
you get lost down to the city. ’ ’ 

To these unnecessary instructions Mrs. Chris- 
tie vouchsafed no reply, only throwing back a 
hurried “Good-bye,” to her husband, and seiz- 
ing her satchel in one hand and holding Arabella 
by the other, she hastened down the road. 

They arrived at the station nearly an hour too 
soon for the express which was to convey them 
into the city. Scarcely anyone had as yet ap- 
peared, and the two sat down forlornly, very 
close together, and feeling more in sympathy 
than they had ever been before. A sense of 
blank desolation, in fact, came over them, 
chilling the pleasant glow of anticipation. 
When, at last, however, the station began to 
fill with hurrying feet, and an acquaintance or 
two, who were setting out for the great journey, 
and seemed undisturbed by the circumstance, 
threw them a friendly greeting, their spirits be- 
gan to rise. 


A FIRST JOURNEY 


11 


With one last bound of the heart, Arabella 
beheld the huge, puffing, gleaming monster 
coming up out of the distance, and realized that 
she was really going upon a journey. She cast 
a farewell look around upon the road by which 
she and her companion had lately come, upon 
the fields and the trees, browning now and turn- 
ing to the sere and yellow under the touch of 
autumn, and then she was hurried aboard. 
There had never been any remarkable sympathy 
between her and Mrs. Christie, but oh, how pro- 
foundly thankful she felt that that strong and 
self-reliant personage was with her. It was 
tolerably clear, moreover, from the strong grip 
of the other’s hand, that she fully shared this senti- 
ment. 

Once comfortably seated, however, on the 
plush-covered seats, which appeared very mag- 
nificent to Arabella, with their valise and other 
impedimenta, in the shape of a small hand-bag 
and umbrella, securely bestowed, they began to 
look around them with something like cheerful- 
ness of spirit. This was still farther increased 
by the sight of their neighbors and acquaint- 
ances, likewise comfortably ensconced, and smil- 
ing recognition at them. 

Arabella fairly thrilled when she heard the 
parting whistle, a wild shriek from the engine, 
and the conductor’s stentorian “All aboard ! M 


12 


ARABELLA 


Then the first movement was apparent — very 
slowly at first, then quicker, the train began to 
move out of the station. One by one the familiar 
objects disappeared, and in a very brief interval 
of time, as the locomotive drew the cars upon 
their steaming, unsteady course, Arabella, with 
a tremulous joy, more than half a We, experienced 
the delights of travel. 


Chapter II. 

Arrival in the City. 

The light faded slowly out of the sky, the 
landscape grew dim, and the train sped on 
through the darkness. Mrs. Christie, imitating 
the nonchalance of her neighbors, settled her 
head back upon the velvet cushions, and, 
wearied by her early rising and the unwonted 
excitement of the day, fell into a doze. But 
Arabella looked out with strained, eager eyes 
into the gloom, striving now and again to catch 
some object, and thinking wonderful thoughts. 
She scarcely noticed the passage of time until at 
last the occasional groups of lights, denoting 
some town or village, began to grow numerous 
and concentrated, and once more, with a quick 
beating of the heart, Arabella felt that the city 
was near. 

As she saw the passengers beginning to collect 
their small bits of luggage and to re-arrange 
their costumes, she felt that her surmise was 
correct, and she touched Mrs. Christie upon the 
arm. The latter started up, confused for the 


( 13 ) 


14 


ARABELLA 


moment, and uncertain of her whereabouts, 
while the train thundered on through the tunnel, 
and the brakeman, hurrying through the cars, 
announced: 

“New York.” 

That was a thrilling moment, though with 
Arabella the awe just then predominated over 
the joy. She clung closely to her companion, as 
the latter summoned to her aid all her native 
energy. Together they threaded their way 
through the dizzying crowds. One of their 
acquaintances, the son of a neighboring farmer, 
who by reason of his business as a commercial 
traveller was held in great repute, advanced to 
Mrs. Christie, inquired with kindly interest as 
to her destination, and made an offer, which was 
eagerly accepted, to put them both on board the 
cable car. This, he explained, would take them 
to their very door. He carried his solicitude so 
far as to give a friendly hint to the conductor, 
who promised to look after the two women. 

They were a quaint and somewhat forlorn- 
looking pair in their countrified costumes, both 
of which had been resurrected and bore evident 
marks of being months behind the fashion. Of 
this they were thus far happily unconscious. 
The cable car pursued its way along Forty- 
second Street, turning downwards at Third Ave- 
nue. The noises seemed deafening to Arabella, 


ARRIVAL IN THE) CITY 


15 


the crowds terrifying. She glanced, from time 
to time, at Mrs. Christie, who sat bolt upright, 
never moving a muscle, and looked as if she 
were undergoing a terrible ordeal. When they 
had gone a few blocks down Third Avenue, the 
conductor, jerking the bell, cried: 

‘ ‘ Here you are ! ’ ’ 

To this address no one responded, but each 
began to look at his neighbor to know for whom 
it was meant. At last the functionary, striding 
towards the two unconscious women, informed 
them, with a certain gruff kindness, that “here 
was their street. ’ ’ 

The passengers descended and stood looking 
helplessly about them. The car sped on its way, 
and Mrs. Christie said to Arabella: 

“My sister lives in that street, quite close to 
the corner. ’ ’ 

But which corner ? They surveyed each one 
in turn. On one corner was a thriving grocery, 
and next door to it a tall tenement. On an- 
other a big department store, extending nearly 
half the block and closed for the night. A 
third was a liquor store with a red light burning 
at the door and sounds of revelry from within, 
which caused the two women to turn away. The 
fourth was a small and dingy dwelling, which 
somehow looked more encouraging. 


16 


ARABELLA 


“I guess it’s the second door after that,” Mrs. 
Christie exclaimed. “Let’s try it, anyhow.” 
They both brightened up at the bare prospect 
that this might be their destination, and paused 
in front of a small structure, the lower story of 
which consisted of a bright- looking fruit shop. 
Therein they found a clean and civil German 
woman, and with her aid discovered that the 
number over the door, obscured by the darkness, 
corresponded to that which Mrs. Christie had 
inscribed upon a slip of paper. The rosy and 
benignant mistress of the shop further informed 
them that the Fraulein Norris lived upstairs, 
and came out to show them a neighboring door 
and a narrow staircase, which led to her quar- 
ters. 

Mrs. Christie thanked her cordially, and fol- 
lowing the given directions, mounted a pair of 
clean and freshly-painted stairs, covered with a 
bright-colored jute carpet. They presently 
found themselves at a door, and quite unac- 
quainted with the use of the electric bell indi- 
cated by the button at the side, Mrs. Christie 
braced herself for action. She had already re- 
covered much of her resolute and energetic 
bearing, and as Arabella hung in the back- 
ground she knocked loudly at the door. 

There was no answer at all for a moment or 
two, and Arabella’s heart began to sink. She 


ARRIVAL IN THE CITY 


17 


felt that if this were the wrong place, and if they 
were really lost in the wilderness of the great 
city, she could not go out again into that dark- 
ness, now and again relieved as it was by those 
glaring lights, or that silence alternating with 
hideous clamor. Suppose, thought she, that 
there was no Miss Norris here, or that she was 
even more formidable than Arabella, until this 
memorable day, had held Mrs. Christie to be. 
The prospect was terrifying. 

Moreover, the girl, strong as she was, began 
to feel utterly weary. Unwonted excitement is 
a sure cause of fatigue, and the emotions of the 
day had been so many and varied as to produce 
a complete exhaustion and an almost paralyzing 
numbness. She had also eaten less than usual 
in the hurry of departure, and felt both hungry 
and weak. In her present mood Arabella was 
convinced that she hated the big city, with its 
noise and its jostling crowds, and almost wished 
herself back in her little attic room, with the 
quiet sense of freedom and security which she 
enjoyed when the elder people had retired and 
she was at liberty to dispose of her time as she 
saw fit, provided only that she did not burn 
more than her allotted piece of candle. 

Those few moments of suspense were alto- 
gether the most trying of the day. It seemed 
as if the door would never be opened. She was 


18 


ARABELLA 


sure that if Mrs. Christie’s sister were not there, 
or should refuse to receive them, that she must 
let fall from her tired eyes those tears that were 
gathering there, and sit down in utter weariness 
upon the stairs, powerless to go farther. So 
far, however, with the self-control which adverse 
circumstances had engendered, she had given 
no outward nor visible sign of her inward discom- 
posure. 

Her companion was disturbed by no such ap- 
prehensions. She knew that she had the num- 
ber and the street right, having copied them 
from her relative’s own letter, and she knew her 
sister. Her only fear pointed to the chance that 
the latter might have been absent, and had not 
received the letter announcing their arrival. 
Her anxiety awakened by this conjecture, she 
pounded with still more vigorous knuckles upon 
the door. There was no mistake about the 
quality of the knock. It echoed and re-echoed 
within; it resounded down the stairs. At last 
the two wayfarers began to hear responsive 
sounds from within. 

In the first place, the mewing of a cat, which 
sounded precisely as if it were answering the 
summons, and caused Arabella to feel like laugh- 
ing hysterically. In the second place, the 
opening of some inner door, a distinct noise as 
of frizzling, and lastly a curious sound of shuf- 


ARRIVAL IN THE CITY 


19 


fling feet hastily approaching, which caused the 
girl’s heart to beat more quickly and her pulses 
almost to throb. She knew not what she was 
going to see. 

Next instant the door was thrown wide open, 
and Arabella stared with all her might at the 
singular little figure which presented itself upon 
the threshold, and the like of which the girl 
thought she had never seen before. 

As she drew in her breath sharply, however, 
and stood far back against the wall, it became 
apparent to her that their wanderings were over, 
and that they were at least secure of a night’s 
lodging and a place to rest their weary bones. 
For this is what she saw and heard. 



Chapter III. 

Mrs. Christie’s Sister. 

Upon the threshold stood the tiniest, the 
whitest, the quaintest-looking woman imagin- 
able. Her hair was snow-white, and fastened 
in a knot at the top of her head, whence de- 
scended, on either side, a bunch of curls. Her 
face was of a deadly paleness, enlivened by the 
gleam of a pair of bright brown eyes. Her costume 
was for the moment all of a white, since a large 
linen apron, long-sleeved and high-necked, en- 
veloped her completely. Somehow, the apron 
and the curls presented an incongruous appear- 
ance. Arabella thought at once of a doll she 
had seen at a bazaar, springing on wires. 

But the glance of the brown eyes was quick, 
vivacious, above all kindly; and Arabella was 
reassured even before she heard the cordial wel- 
come uttered in a small, chirping voice, which 
seemed to proceed as from an automaton. She 
flew at her tall sister, who stood stiff, straight and 
embarrassed, being quite unaccustomed to demon- 
strations of any sort. Yet there was a grim 
kindliness in her expression such as Arabella 
had never perceived there before. 

( 21 ) 


22 


ARABELLA 


“Well, sister,” piped the chirping voice, “it’s 
good to see you again, and in my own home, 
too; my tiny, little home. And who’s that be- 
hind you? Why, of course, it’s Arabella, whom 
I never have seen, but of whom I’ve often heard. 
Come, Arabella, and give me a kiss.” 

The girl so addressed, and to whom such an 
invitation had never before been extended, did 
not respond to the invitation, but stood twisting 
her fingers and shifting from one foot to the 
other. The little woman, with alight, pleasant- 
sounding laugh, darted at her and kissed her 
with so much cheery kindliness that the tears 
started to Arabella’s gray eyes. From that time 
forward the two were the best of friends. 

“And now come in, both of you. Here I am 
keeping you both standing, and I am sure you 
are tired most to death, and chilled, and fam- 
ished for something to eat. ’ * 

As the travellers crossed that hospitable 
threshold their nostrils were met by the most 
savory and delightful smells proceeding from 
the kitchen, which made Arabella, at least, 
realize how very hungry she was. The frizzling 
sound, much louder now, was clearly from the 
same source, and the hostess, bidding them take 
off their things, first there in her parlor, rushed 
breathlessly back to the culinary tasks which 
their arrival had evidently interrupted. 


MRS. CHRISTIE’S SISTER 


23 


Arabella, as she followed Mrs. Christie’s ex- 
ample and removed her hat, coat and gloves, 
surveyed the apartnent. It was so small that, 
after the barn-like spaciousness of the Christie 
homestead, it resembled a toy, or a box from 
which had just popped out the kind little woman. 
Tiny as was the room, however, it contained a 
sofa and two big arm-chairs, the latter before a 
miniature fire-place, full, just then, of glowing 
coals. Curtains of some heavy, but bright- 
colored material shut out the darkness. A 
drugget of warm red, which appeared superfine 
to Arabella, but which was in fact of the coars- 
est and most ordinary description, covered the 
floor. A few prints, likewise of the most cheer- 
ful hue, adorned the walls. An air of cosy com- 
fort pervaded everything. Then, for the first 
time, the impression of home was borne in upon 
her mind. The cat came rubbing against them 
as they warmed themselves at the fire, and 
looked up at them with big eyes that gleamed 
like amber in the fire-light. It almost seemed 
to the girl’s excited fancy as if this animal were 
the genius of the place. 

After a brief interval the voice of the little 
woman summoned them into the adjoining apart- 
ment. She inquired if they would like to ‘ ‘wash 
some first” before seating themselves at the 
table. 


24 


ARABELLA 


* ‘I guess we would like to wash our faces and 
hands,” agreed Mrs. Christie, “to get some of 
that train soot off. ’ ’ 

She looked at Arabella as she spoke, and 
added, laughing: 

“That child’s most as black as a nigger.” 

Miss Norris ushered them into a pair of tiny 
little rooms, not much bigger than the cabin of 
a ship, but with that all-pervading air of comfort 
and cleanliness which penetrated Arabella with 
a new delight. 

“This is your room, my dear,” said the little 
woman, leading her thither and giving her a 
kindly pressure of the hand. “I hope you’ll 
be able to fit in the bed. It’s so very small. ” 

Their ablutions being speedily made, the two 
were presently summoned to supper. The dainti- 
est little table, that might have come up from 
fairyland, stood in the center of this second 
room, with its carpet of bright green, wherein 
flowers of various sorts grew at random. The 
/tablecloth was of snowy white; in its center was 
a New Jerusalem cherry, with its festive-looking 
berries. A Japanese tea-service arranged upon 
a silver tray appeared to Arabella very much 
like those things of which she had read in her 
fairy book. The cutlery and plated spoons were 
immaculately clean and polished. 


MRS. CHRISTIE’S SISTER 


25 


At the end of the table was a dish of delicious- 
ly browned and still frizzling sausages. Arabella 
did not know what they were, the food at home 
being all of the more solid and heavy variety, 
suited to Silas Christie’s appetite. Hence this 
homely, but appetizing dish was quite new to 
her, and the more relished in her present hungry 
condition. They were supplemented by fried 
potatoes and a few slices of cold tongue, pur- 
chased from a neighboring delicatessen. Ara- 
bella, with the healthy appetite of thirteen, 
sharpened by the journey, presently overcame 
all shyness and did justice to those crisp and 
delicious morsels, which Miss Norris had cooked 
to perfection. After these were removed the 
hospitable hostess produced a steaming dish of 
pancakes, fresh from the griddle, with plenty of 
syrup and hot coffee. This last was a beverage 
which Arabella had never before tasted. With 
abundance of boiled milk and sugar, it tasted to 
her like the nectar of the gods. Mrs. Christie 
was in no way behind her young companion in 
doing justice to the viands. When her sister 
apologized for the want of variety, the worthy 
woman interrupted with her habitual truthful- 
ness. 

“It’s many a year, Alicia, since I tasted any- 
thing so good, and I don’t believe Arabella ever 
did in her whole life. So there ! ’ ’ 


26 


ARABELLA 


Supper over, the dishes were washed up, a 
function in which both guests, being well ac- 
customed to work, took a share, despite the 
remonstrances of their hostess. There was a 
brief interval after that, during which Arabella 
was ensconced in one of the big arm-chairs near 
the parlor fire, listening to her elders talk. The 
cat, after reconnoitering cautiously, leaped into 
Arabella’s lap and coiled herself up luxuriously. 
Mrs. Christie sent her companion to bed early, 
however, declaring that she must be tired out, 
and wouldn’t be good for anything next day. 
It was when Arabella was alone in her little 
room that she fully realized the strangeness of 
her surroundings. 

She lay quite still in that little bed, which 
fitted her as closely, almost, as if she had been 
in a box, and which was snowy white and soft 
as down, and into which Miss Norris had tucked 
her with a good-night kiss. And lying there 
thus, she listened to the roar of the electric trains 
rushing by, and the ceaseless din of the thor- 
oughfare, and looked at the electric light, which 
seemed to her so wonderful after the pitchy 
darkness of night in the country, shining in 
through the figured curtains of chintz upon the 
.window. Gradually the noises became indis- 
tinct to her ears, the lights began to grow blurred 
and faint, and she forgot her wonder, her de- 


MRS. CHRISTIE’S SISTER 


27 


light, and, in fact, all her rapidly succeeding 
impressions, in a sound and dreamless sleep, 
whence she awakened with a start, and in the 
manner hereafter to be described. 












































































Chapter IV. 

The Exchange of Confidences. 

Mrs. Christie, tired as she was, remained up 
an hour or so later than Arabella, chatting with 
her sister before the fire, that was constantly re- 
plenished with shovelfuls of coal. She, too, 
like her young companion, enjoyed the rest, the 
quiet, so foreign to her ordinary laborious and 
drearily monotonous existence, though she did 
not yield herself thereto with the same complete- 
ness as did Arabella. Habit was too strong for 
her, and during her brief visit she was perpet- 
ually looking about for something to do. 
However, on that first night of her arrival she 
permitted herself the untroubled enjoyment of 
the arm-chair, the stillness — within doors, at 
least — which the noises of the thoroughfare only 
accentuated, and her sister’s society. Having 
ascertained, by tiptoeing to the door, that Ara- 
bella was really sound asleep, she proceeded to 
give Alicia, in her own terse and forcible way, 
the chief points in Arabella’s history. These 
were almost entirely new to Miss Norris, who 


( 29 ) 


30 


ARABELLA 


had been aware only in a general way that her 
sister had adopted an orphan. 

“Yes,” said Mrs. Christie, “we got her from 
the Sisters when she was little more than a baby. 
She didn’t know anything about that. I guess 
you remember when that was — near thirteen 
years ago. ’ ’ 

Alicia agreed that she did. 

“Well, there ain’t much more to tell concern- 
ing that part of it,” Mrs. Christie declared. 
“She lived with us ever since. When she got 
big enough she helped with the work. ’ * 

“Did you ever find out who she was?” 

“Well,” answered Mrs. Christie, “the Sisters 
were most sure she had some rich relations be- 
cause of a locket and ring that were left with 
her, and a few lines in writing. The jewelry 
was to identify her, if ever she was wanted. Mr. 
Christie, he never believed that anyone would 
come after her. He always said he guessed 
somebody was well rid of her. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘And did anyone ever come ?’ ’ Alicia inquired, 
eagerly. The little woman had in her composi- 
tion a strong flavor of romance, and she was 
always weaving stories to herself there in her 
tiny rooms, as fairies weave beautiful fabrics out 
of sunbeams. 

“Pm coming to that !” declared Mrs. Christie, 
settling herself comfortably in her chair, “But 


THE EXCHANGE OF CONFIDENCES 


31 


first I must tell you, the Sisters bound me to 
bring up the child a Catholic. ’ * 

“Why, of course !” Alicia assented. 

“Well, it was not so very easy,” Mrs. Christie 
said, shifting uncomfortably in her chair and 
unwilling, just then, to meet the bright, dark 
eyes that were fixed upon her. 

“You couldn’t have brought her up anything 
else, dear,” piped Alicia, “since you were a 
Catholic yourself, and such a good one, when 
we went to the Sisters’ school long ago. ’ ’ 

Mrs. Christie’s face took on something of de- 
fiance, though her dull eyes softened, too, as 
she remembered the days when she used to take 
her little sprite of a sister by the hand and pro- 
ceed to the school near the church. 

“Oh, then it was easy enough,” she answered, 
“but when I married Silas Christie he wasn’t a 
Catholic. I thought at the first go-off it would 
be kind of easy to make him one. 1 tried, but it 
didn’t work worth a cent. He ain’t nothing in 
particular now.” 

“But as long as you are,” Alicia interposed, 
mildly. 

Mrs. Christie sighed. 

“Well, to tell you the honest truth,” Mrs. 
Christie said, “the church is far off, and I’ve 
got lots of work to do on Sunday morning, and 


32 


ARABELLA 


— and Silas didn’t care very much about seeing 
me go there. Most of his folks are Methodists, 
and there ain’t no Catholics around except a few 
farm hands and such like, and so — ” 

She paused. Alicia’s quaint little face was 
puckered and the big tears falling from her eyes. 

“Oh, sister,’’ she cried pitifully, “don’t you 
remember the jewel we used to talk about, the 
bright jewel of faith that the teacher told us we 
were never to let grow dim?’’ 

Mrs. Christie turned upon her, irritated by her 
remonstrance and by the sharp pang of remem- 
brance which shot through her heart. 

“It’s easy for you, Alicia,’’ she cried, “that 
ain’t got any husband or people-in-law to inter- 
fere with your affairs. ’ ’ 

“I know, I know, dear,’’ Alicia answered, “it 
was hard. But what about the child?’’ 

And the little woman hastily dried the tears 
which she saw were aggravating to her sister, 
while Mrs. Christie, momentarily ignoring the 
question, continued her self-justification. 

“I ain’t goin’ to say nothin’ about the daily 
nag, nag, that went on for close upon seven years, 
until I stopped my church-going ’most alto- 
gether. When there was talk about adoptin’ a 
child, the Sisters, as I told you, insisted that it 
must be a Catholic, and I insisted, too. I jest 


THE EXCHANGE OF CONFIDENCES 


33 


kicked up my heels and fought it right out with 
Silas. ‘Silas,’ says I to him, ‘if that baby girl 
comes to this house it’s got to be a Catholic, and 
a good one, too; not the sort that you’ve made 
of me. ’ ’ ’ 

“And then?” inquired Alicia. 

“I told him right off that if ever he went for 
to interfere with Arabella’s religion, why that 
minute I’d take her back to the Sisters. Well, 
Silas is the sort of man, if once he agrees to any- 
thing it’s all right. I can trust him. So I’ve 
done my best with the girl, and I sent her to a 
Catholic school, though it’s a poor one, where 
she can’t get much schoolin’. It’s jest kept by 
an old woman in the village. And I sent her to 
church and Sunday school right straight 
along. ’ ’ 

Alicia grasped her hand. 

“That was so good of you, dear,” she whis- 
pered. “You kept the jewel of her faith bright, 
anyway. ’ ’ 

“Yes, and Arabella, she’s a Catholic all right 
enough. She loves her church, and she can 
talk about it like a book, once she gets started.” 

Alicia was delighted with this intelligence, 
for she had known very well that her sister’s 
Catholicity had wavered and grown dim in the 
years of her married life. She herself was 
staunch in the faith, and had striven hard to 


34 


ARABELLA 


instill it into those pupils who were put into her 
charge in a neighboring parochial school. Just 
as she had retained a greater refinement of speech 
and manner than her sister, so had she practised 
in her daily existence the teaching of the Sisters. 
She was, therefore, very much pleased to hear 
that the poor little waif whom the Christies had 
adopted had been brought up, as far as possible, 
a child of the church. She did not, however, 
insist further just then upon the subject of re- 
ligion, but began to ask if any further informa- 
tion had ever been received about Arabella’s 
parentage. 

“Why, to be sure,” answered Mrs. Christie, 
“and that’s jest what brought me to town. ” 


Chapter V. 

Arabella Overhears. 

Alicia’s eyes were aglow with interest. Their 
expression said more than a whole volley of 
questions, while Mrs. Christie, settling herself 
more comfortably in her chair, pursued her nar- 
rative. 

“Well, everything went on jest the same till a 
a week ago Tuesday. Then, jest as I was fussin’ 
round with a squash pie I was gettin’ into the 
oven, in comes a little man, sort of smart and 
dapper lookin’.” 

Alicia waited breathlessly. 

“He walked right into the kitchen, where I 
was standin’ with my hands in the flour, and he 
began to talk about Arabella. He beat around 
the bush some, and seemed as if he warn’t too 
anxious to come out with what he had to say, 
until I up and told him to speak right out. He 
asked me Arabella’s name. ‘Christie,’ says I. 
‘She ain’t your daughter,’ says he. ‘No,’ says 
I, ‘she ain’t.’ ‘And,’ says he, ‘her name ain’t 
Christie.’ ” 


( 35 ) 


36 


ARABELLA 


“ ‘She hain’t got any other that I know of,’ 
says I. ‘We’re cornin’ to that,’ says he. 

“Well, do you know that I felt kind of 
squeamish when he said them words, for the 
girl’s a good girl, as girls go, and we’ve got 
used to her. ’ ’ 

Alicia nodded, her eyes full of tears. 

‘ ‘ ‘You got her, ’ said he, reading out of a note- 
book which he took from his pocket, ‘on the 
29th day of October, 18 — , from Sister Mary 
Peter.’ 

“Well, I had to own up that we did, and the 
fellow went on reading. He said that they’d 
got there a description of the clothing that had 
come with the child, and which were in my 
keepin’, except one or two things that the Sisters 
had kept for the purpose of identifyin’ her. 
When he asked me if I had got them clothes, I 
made answer that I had them that didn’t wear 
out in the natural course of things. He asked 
then, cautious like, if I’d got any bit of jewelry, 
and after hemmin’ and hawin’ a little I owned 
that I’d a locket. He wanted to know if there 
were any marks on it, and at last I told him that 
there were three, A. R. A. , which made me call 
the girl ‘ Arabella. ’ He laughed at that , and then 
he told me that he had some good news for the 
girl, and like as not for me, too, and that we’d 
hear from him in a day or two. I didn’t ask 


ARABELLA OVERHEARS 


37 


him any more questions, for it ain’t my way to 
pry into other folks’ consarns.” 

“And you didn’t find out what the good news 
was?” the little woman inquired, with glistening 
eyes and bated breath. “Why, the child might 
be — anybody. ’ ’ 

“Well, we found out a good deal more since 
then,” Mrs. Christie declared, shortly, as if the 
news were not altogether pleasing to her. It 
seems that the girl’s father had married against 
his father’s consent, and both himself and his 
young wife had died when their baby was only a 
few months old. The neighbors, not knowing 
what to do with the infant, sent it off to the 
Foundling Asylum with the clothes and the 
locket and some writing, to tell all they knew 
about the business. Well, the grandfather, 
when he found he was goin’ to die, got sorry 
for what he’d done, and made a will, leaving a 
big pile of money to that there child, provided 
it was still livin’ and could be found. Detectives 
got on to the story, and they traced Arabella to 
our house, and it seems she’s got folks right here 
in New York, big bugs over on Fifth Avenue.” 

Alicia drew in her breath sharply. Her face 
was aglow. All the romance of her nature was 
up and astir. 

“And her name ain’t Arabella at all,” added 
Mrs. Christie, “though Arabella I’ll call her as 
long as I have anything to do with her. ’ ’ 


38 


ARABELLA 


“Isn’t it wonderful !” cried the little woman. 
“Isn’t it just like stories we read?” 

“Well, I don’t know as I ever read a story 
like that,” Mrs. Christie dissented. “I ain’t 
much of a reader, anyway, and I don’t hold 
much with stories. Trash, they mostly is.” 

“And Arabella is really rich? An heiress?” 

“Yes, jest about that. She’s got a heap of 
money and a lot of rich relations. ’ ’ 

Mrs. Christie relapsed into silence after she 
had said that, her ordinarily dull face expressive 
of some powerful emotion. 

“And how did you feel when you heard every- 
thing?” the sister asked. 

“Well, I was kinder set up at first,” Mrs. 
Christie acknowledged. “It was most as if a 
fortune had been left to myself, and I began to 
think of things the money might get for me and 
for the house. ’ ’ 

“Oh!” said Alicia, as if she were disap- 
pointed. 

“Then,” continued Mrs. Christie, “I began 
to remember that she’d got them rich relations, 
who would most likely take her away, and — ” 
She stopped, staring into the fire, while her sis- 
ter watched her eagerly. 

“I jest wish they wouldn’t,” she declared. 

“Because of the things?” the little woman 
asked in a low voice; then, impulsively laying 


ARABELLA OVERHEARS 


39 


her hand on her sister’s arm, “Surely not on 
account of the things?” 

“No,” replied Mrs. Christie, “though it’s 
natural that I’d hanker after them. But it 
ain’t that, Alicia. It ain’t that.” 

Alicia brightened up. 

“It’s kind o’ lonesome down to the old place 
now. Silas Christie’s beginnin’ to put on the 
old man and he never was very lively at the 
best of times, and I ain’t as young as I used 
to be, and I hate strangers ’round. Arabella, 
she’s a good girl, and I’m fond of her, and I 
don’t want to see her go away. So there. ” 

She ended up defiantly, her rugged face work- 
ing, and a sudden burst of tears — the first she 
had shed in many years — shaking her stony com- 
posure as a storm .shakes the trees of the woods. 

Alicia watched her in silence, wiping away 
sympathetic tears from her own eyes, and when 
the outburst of grief had spent itself she threw 
two little arms around her big sister’s neck. 

“I always knew you had a kind heart, Cath- 
erine,” she said, “though you never were one 
to show your feelings. ’ ’ 

And as Catherine Christie wiped her eyes and 
sniffled, striving by every means to regain her 
composure, and as Alicia smiled through her 
tears like the sun through a snow mist, and 
gulped and tried to speak, and gulped again, 


40 


ARABELLA 


neither of the two was aware that that little scene 
had had a spectator, who was likewise an audi- 
tor. 

Arabella, waking suddenly, bewildered by 
her strange surroundings, got out of bed in her 
long, white night dress, with her brown hair in a 
towsled mass on top of her head, and stole into 
the adjoining room. There she clearly perceived 
the two women sitting before the fire, and as she 
gradually began to realize who they were and 
where she was, she caught the sound of her own 
name. Almost involuntarily she stood, a fascin- 
ated listener, hearing with wonder and amaze- 
ment the strange tale concerning her which 
Mrs. Christie unfolded. Until that moment, she 
vaguely knew that she had fallen heir to some 
money left by somebody, and had not at all 
realized that with the fortune she had come into 
possession of rich relations. 

Her astonishment gave place to awe when she 
beheld the most wondrous sight of all — Mrs. 
Christie crying, and the little woman wiping 
sympathetic tears from her own eyes. Hitherto 
she had always believed that grown people never 
cried, and least of all, Mrs. Christie. Moreover, 
the sight touched a new and strange chord in 
her own kindly and generous nature, and she 
was deeply touched to hear the woman say that 
she would be lonesome for her, Arabella. For 
her, too, those tears were falling. 


ARABELLA OVERHEARS 


41 


It marked a new era in her life, and the im- 
pression thus made upon her she never lost. 
She felt for the first time that someone really 
cared, and this knowledge had an important in- 
fluence upon her future course of action. She 
did not, however, let the others know of her 
presence, but crept back to bed. There her at- 
tention was divided between the strange and un- 
accustomed noises without and the thrilling 
story she had heard. She repeated over and 
over to herself, as she lay awake, “I won’t go to 
any rich relations. No, I won’t. I’ll stay with 
her, if she wants me. ’ ’ 

And so resolving, she fell asleep, only to be 
awakened, next time, by the flood of morning 
sunshine which came streaming into her room 
through the chintz curtains. She thought for 
a moment she was dreaming, so oddly did the 
strange medley of noises, induced by the bustle 
of the thoroughfare, intensified now with the 
coming of day, break upon her ears. Amongst 
them all, however, she presently heard Alicia’s 
chirping voice in the adjoining room, exclaiming: 
“Oh, sister, let the child sleep as long as she 
can. It will do her good, after the fatigue of the 
journey.” 

To which the curt, dry tones of Mrs. Christie 
responded: 


42 


ARABELLA 


“Alicia, you’d spoil Arabella in jest about a 
week. Why, she ain’t never slept after six 
o’clock in her life.” 

Then Arabella remembered everything, and 
lost no time in getting up and dressing as quick- 
ly as possible. She went out into the dining 
room, where she was presently regaled with 
some of that delicious beverage now known to 
her as coffee, golden brown and piping hot, some 
buttered toast and crisp bacon. The little 
woman waited upon her as if she had been a 
princess, and solely from the goodness of her 
own heart, and in her delight at having a guest. 
These attentions were prompted by no other 
motive. A word here, a little act there, added 
to the comfort of both visitors, but especially to 
that of the little girl. Never in her life before, 
nor in her many after vicissitudes, did Arabella 
enjoy a more delightful experience than during 
her stay in those quarters over a shop, within a 
stone’s throw of noisy, over-crowded Third 
Avenue. 


Chapter VI. 

A Shopping Expedition, 

On the following morning, after breakfast, the 
first question mooted was that of visiting the 
shops. “I’ve got to get Arabella a dress,” Mrs. 
Christie declared, “and a hat and shoes as well, 
before I take her to see her folks. ’ ’ 

Arabella shivered at the mention of “folks,” 
though with the reticence which her lonely, un- 
childlike life had engendered, she made no allu- 
sion to what she had overheard. Mrs. Christie, 
too, felt oppressed by the dreaded ordeal before 
her of “facing the folks,” and the little woman 
was heartily in sympathy with her fears. 

“We must make Arabella look as well as pos- 
sible,” she agreed, “and the Third Avenue 
shops won’t do. We’ll have to go over to Sixth 
Avenue, or even Broadway. Of course, things 
will be more expensive there, but we must man- 
age. ” 

“There ain’t much need of managing,” 
laughed Mrs. Christie. “The lawyer gave me a 
cheque for present expenses. ’ ’ 


( 43 ) 


44 


ARABELLA 


Alicia’s eyes opened wide. 

“How much?’’ she inquired. 

“Two hundred.’’ 

“Two hundred !” 

“Yes,’’ answered Mrs. Christie, with her grim 
smile. “I never handled so much money in my 
born days, and Arabella, she hasn’t ever had 
more ’n a nickel at a time. ” 

Arabella, half stupefied, unable to realize, to 
understand, listened to this conversation vague- 
ly. When the trio were about ready for the 
start, Alicia called her sister aside. 

“Dear,’’ she said, “I’ve got a little money 
saved. I really don’t need it now, and you’d 
better buy a new bonnet before you go with Ara- 
bella to see her people. ’ ’ 

Mrs. Christie hesitated. Tong ago in the 
olden days, before she had married Silas, when 
she was a fine, strapping girl, much admired by 
some of the local youth, she had been very fond 
of finery. This taste had survived in an active 
form during the first years of her married life, 
but it had soon been rendered inoperative by the 
rigid economy of Silas Christie. Beauty in the 
matter of dress did not appeal to him. Vague, 
shadowy gleams of this old desire had, however, 
remained in the shape of dreams that arose at 
times and haunted her imagination, and which 
had sprung up into renewed strength with the 


A SHOPPING EXPEDITION 


45 


suggestion of wealth for Arabella. Amongst 
these dreams was a velvet hat with a long 
feather. That would most certainly make an 
impression upon Arabella’s folks, and she did feel 
that her present head-gear was scarcely suitable 
to the occasion. Her shrewd common sense, 
however, suddenly reasserted itself. 

“Alicia,” she answered, “you keep your 
money. It’s better for her folks to see at once 
what kind of people the girl’s lived among, and 
I guess they won’t care what sort of a hat I’ve 
got on.” 

This silenced Alicia, who secretly had to ad- 
mit that her sister was right, though she was 
not quite convinced, and would have dearly 
liked to send her off to the dread encounter clad 
in new attire, for the little woman’s eyes were 
sharp and observant, and she knew that the hat 
which Mrs. Christie wore was far from being in 
the latest fashion, and that its trimmings were 
somewhat faded and inclined to tawdriness. 

To Arabella it was an exciting moment, when 
she was actually setting forth to buy new clothes. 
She had a young girl’s natural desire for pretty 
things, though, indeed, her experience was so 
limited that she was only vaguely aware that her 
attire was of an extremely ancient cut, and pain- 
fully home-made in appearance. She put on 
her hat, happily unconscious that it was almost 


46 


ARABELLA 


as many years behind the styles as that of her 
protectress. Miss Alicia, too, looked quainter 
than ever after she had arrayed herself in a trim 
little suit of gray, with a toque to match, which 
fitted her surprisingly well and had quite a smart 
appearance. For the first time, Arabella, glanc- 
ing from her costume to that of Mrs. Christie’s, 
and thence to her own, felt something like doubt. 

When they went forth Arabella was conscious 
of an unusual exhilaration and lightness of 
spirit on seeing the vast city, clothed with the 
morning sunshine as with a garment. The mov- 
ing panorama of the crowds, which had terrified 
her the night before, now amused and interested 
her. She loved to watch them, as also the num- 
ber and variety of the vehicles. Alicia hurried 
them on, away to the westward, saying that 
they could take the Sixth Avenue elevated train 
down to the shopping district. She chatted as 
they went, pointing out now one building, and 
then another, and giving them little bits of in- 
formation about the city. 

To the young girl, and, indeed, to her older 
companion, it seemed a wonderful thing, 
mounting the iron stairs and stepping from the 
platform into a train, which having received its 
quota of passengers, darted into space. For a 
moment Arabella’s heart leaped into her mouth. 
They were so high up, and the huge mass of 


A SHOPPING EXPEDITION 


47 


cars was moving so quickly, that it appeared as 
if they must certainly be precipitated into the 
street below. 

She was naturally fearless, however, and she 
presently began to laugh at the glimpses ob- 
tained through the windows, and the curious in- 
teriors displayed. She also experienced a grow- 
ing sense of enjoyment in the swift, flying 
movement. The two women silently watched 
her, Alicia smilingly responsive to her laughter, 
and pleased at her pleasure; Mrs. Christie with 
a grim curiosity, as one making an experiment. 
She had herself been long enough away from 
the city to find everything new and strange; 
changed, too, in many particulars, yet she was 
most interested in discovering how it would all 
appear to Arabella — Arabella, who had never 
seen anything save country sights. 

The three descended to thq street at the 
Twenty- third Street station, Alicia declaring that 
they could walk down from there to visit the big 
department stores. 

It would not be of the least use to attempt a 
description of Arabella’s frame of mind as they 
went from shop to shop and saw bewildering 
piles of stuff, and millinery of every description. 
They were moderate in their purchases for that 
day. They did not even know how to shop as 
rich women yet, and kept thinking of the pen- 


48 


ARABELLA 


nies and the shillings. Arabella’s breath was 
fairly taken away as it was, when Alicia, the 
bolder of the two, chose a few articles. 

What most delighted the little girl was a 
checked silk, blue and white, a very ordinary 
one, indeed, but in her eyes a perfect dream. 
She had never before possessed — had never even 
dreamed of possessing anything in silk. Its 
very rustle had been awe-inspiring, and now to 
have one of her own, and such a sweet pattern, 
seemed almost too much good fortune. 

Alicia, seeing her delight, ventured farther 
and bought her a couple of very elaborate stocks, 
some bright ribbons, dainty little collars, and also 
two pairs of fancy hose. These latter remained 
for long afterwards a thing of wonder and de- 
light to Arabella, as she surveyed them upon 
her feet with their bright polka dots. These 
were supplemented by a dainty and very pretty 
pair of shoes, and wonder of wonders, gloves. 

Against some of these items Mrs. Christie 
almost rebelled. She called it a tempting of 
Providence to spend money on such frippery, but 
Alicia stood firm in her metropolitan knowledge, 
fortified by Arabella’s half bewildered joy in all 
these new possessions. When they had ven- 
tured much farther than Arabella’s thoughts had 
ever gone, even her fairy book scarcely furnish- 
ing her with a parallel, Alicia proposed that they 


A SHOPPING EXPEDITION 


49 


should go and take a bite to eat. This latter 
expedition was to be altogether at her expense. 

This was another and delightful experience to 
the little country mouse. Even the very modest 
restaurant to which Alicia led her guests seemed 
palatial to Arabella. She felt a certain awe of 
the waiter, and was amazed that the gentle little 
woman should so freely give him her orders. 
And what nice things he brought, and how the 
plated silver shone, and the mirrors reflected 
everything in a most marvelous way ! The little 
girl delighted in pouring out her own coffee from 
the dainty little coffee pot, and putting in the 
cream and sugar from the diminutive jug and 
bowl. For, after all, it is the little things of life 
that often please children, as well as grown 
people, and add to their enjoyment. 

It was good to see Arabella’s brown eyes dance 
with merriment and quite redeem the decided 
snub of her nose and the complexion that had 
grown too red from exposure to sun and wind. 
Alicia constantly nodded and smiled at her, and 
the child smiled back again. For already she 
loved the little woman, and considered her as an 
important factor in her present happiness. She 
appeared, indeed, like some benevolent fairy, 
very trim and dapper in her neat suit of gray, 
with her curls escaping from underneath her 
toque. Mrs. Christie , looking at her admiringly, 


50 


ARABELLA 


wished that she, instead of herself, could go to 
meet the awful bugbear of the grand relations. 

Orders were left for a hat to be trimmed for 
Arabella, which the smart little milliner could 
not promise for three days, at least. 

After their luncheon they repaired to a dress- 
maker, who undertook to make a cloth street 
costume in the same period of three days, and 
also to make and send the cherished silk dress 
after them into the country. This three days 
gave them a respite. They could not go to see 
the grand relations before Arabella’s things 
came home. 

When the orders were all given, Arabella 
said to the little woman, for she had not lost her 
awe of Mrs. Christie, though she felt very 
kind and grateful towards her because of the 
sentiments she had expressed on the previous 
night. 

“Is that money mine?” 

“Yes, dear,” answered the little woman, in 
some surprise. 

“Then,” said Arabella, “I want you to buy 
Mrs. Christie a hat, too; a nice one; oh, a very 
nice one. ’ ’ 

The little woman pressed her hand. She 
would have liked to hug her. It was a proud 
and joyful moment for Arabella when Mrs. 
Christie consented to choose a head-gear which 


A SHOPPING EXPEDITION 


51 


partially, at least, realized her dreams, though 
to Arabella’s disappointment, neither of them 
would consent to venture on a feather, nor would 
they agree to any further purchases on her 
part. It was well that the happy trio could not 
see the smiles that passed among the milliners, 
nor hear the witty remarks of the dressmaker’s 
assistants on the unusual customers. And the 
sum of happiness is not so great, for anyone, 
that it can afford to be spoiled by ill-natured 
remarks. 

But neither Arabella nor Mrs. Christie was to 
appear before the great folks in that mode which 
they had chosen. The fancied security of the 
three days was rudely broken by the appearance 
in Alicia’s little home of the same smart law- 
yer’s clerk who had carried confusion into the 
Christie homestead. He came to say that, ac- 
cording to the instructions of his employer, they 
were to lose no time in presenting themselves to 
the relatives. When they objected on the score 
of dress, he dismissed the matter so entirely 
that they were ashamed to insist any further. 
For, though he had satisfied himself by a hasty 
glance that their worst fears on that score were, 
indeed, justified, he well knew that the improve- 
ments they were likely to make would be of 
small consequence to the new relations, who 
were prepared to accept Arabella with varied 


52 


ARABELLA 


emotions, in which favorable anticipation played 
no part. 

They expected nothing but the worst, and 
perhaps it was as well that they should see the 
worst at once. In any case, instructions were 
instructions, and Arabella had to be formally 
accepted by her newly found kindred, and her 
claim on them established before it was possible 
to decide upon any future course of action. Her 
grandfather — if, as seemed almost certain, she 
was the rightful heir — had left her curiously free, 
and had even insisted that she should not be 
thwarted in anything save grave matters of 
right and wrong. The situation was a difficult 
one. The lawyers were anxious to shift or to 
share the responsibility. 

Hence the two women, dressed precisely as 
they were, followed the dapper youth down 
stairs and were handed into a cab. Mrs. Christie 
sat very erect, steadying herself with as digni- 
fied an aspect as possible upon the velvet seat of 
the carriage. Inwardly she was quaking as she 
had never quaked before in her life. Arabella, 
too, was disturbed, and she was awkwardly con- 
scious of the young man, who sat opposite her 
and scrutinized her keenly, as he would not 
venture to do, once she had been accepted. 

She, on her part, took a dislike to him on the 
spot, and somewhat unreasonably decided that 


A SHOPPING EXPEDITION 


53 


she hated him. Otherwise she would have en- 
joyed her first experience of a city carriage. And 
so with mingled feelings they jolted over the 
pavements or glided over the smooth macadam 
into another life for that child of good fortune. 


Chapter VII. 

Arabella Meets Her Grand Relations. 

The carriage stopped before a large and very 
substantial mansion of brown stone, upon the 
older part of Fifth Avenue. Its very aspect 
sent a chill to the hearts of Arabella and her 
companion; a cold and sickening feeling pos- 
sessed them. Mrs. Christie braced herself and 
brought her native energy of character to bear 
upon the situation. Arabella, who was imagin- 
ative in an unusual degree, suffered more. Her 
eyes had an unnatural, strained appearance, and 
the fixed red of her weather-beaten cheeks 
deepened in color. If the smart lawyer’s clerk 
felt any inward perturbation, he gave no sign. 

He inquired of the servant solemnly opening 
the door if Mrs. Winslow could see them, then, 
giving the names in answer to the man’s demand. 
The latter ushered them through the wide hall 
into a room which was clearly a library. Book- 
cases ran around three sides of the room; busts 
of celebrated authors were arranged on pedes- 
tals; large, leather chairs stood bolt upright, 


( 55 ) 


56 


ARABELLA 


giving an appearance of stiffness. Arabella felt 
an immediate repugnance to the busts, and 
shrank away from them. They seemed to stare 
at her with stony, impassive faces, and she sat 
down on one of the smaller and less formidable 
of the chairs. The others were likewise repel- 
lant to her, as if they should be occupied by 
magnates. The silence of the house seemed op- 
pressive. Footsteps were muffled in the pile of 
the rich, soft carpet, and if there were any voices 
they must have spoken in whispers. 

All of a sudden the handle of the door turned 
gently. Arabella’s heart leaped. Mrs. Christie 
settled herself more securely on the edge of her 
chair and tried to look at ease. There was a 
rustling of silk, a delicate and subtle, yet power- 
ful perfume, and a lady, clad in deep mourning, 
entered the room. Her hair, which was of an 
ebony blackness, glossy and lustrous as a raven’s 
wing, was elaborately arranged in a high pompa- 
dour, into puffs and curls filling up the spaces 
on the top of her head. Her brown eyes had, 

- as Mrs. Christie at once observed, a curious re- 
semblance to those of Arabella, with, however, 
a marked difference in the expression, as if they 
had looked at widely differing objects, and re- 
garded life itself from another point of view. 
The complexion was delicately fair, and the 
arched eyebrows gave a cold and supercilious 


ARABELLA MEETS HER GRAND RELATIONS 57 

aspect to the face, which was belied by a certain 
softness about the mouth and chin. 

To Arabella she seemed very beautiful, and 
like a queen in the perfectly-fitting black dress, 
which fell around her in graceful folds. 

Advancing into the room, she greeted the 
lawyer’s clerk, Mr. Brown, with an indescrib- 
ably courteous ease, which yet held him com- 
pletely at a distance, and turned her eyes towards 
his companions. They had instinctively risen 
at her approach, Mrs. Christie bolt upright and 
stiffly defiant, and Arabella nervous and con- 
fused, with downcast eyes and burning cheeks. 
Motioning them all to be seated, Mrs. Winslow 
sat down herself and began at once, with the air 
of one who has a duty to perform and would 
fain be done therewith. 

“So, Mr. Brown, you have brought Mrs.’’ — 
she referred by a hasty glance to a slip of paper 
in her hand — “Mrs. Christie.’’ 

She smiled as she spoke, with a slight, cour- 
teous nod to the elder woman. 

“Mrs. Christie and — my niece — to see us, 
as you promised. ’ ’ 

“Yes, Madam,’’ said the young man, all 
deference and civility now, which made Arabella 
feel that she hated him more than ever, “and I 
have brought all necessary documents to estab- 
lish the young lady’s identity. Mr. Van Duzen, 
of our firm, is coming himself later.’’ 


58 


ARABELLA 


“Yes, of course,” said Mrs. Winslow. “So 
very good of him. And my brothers will be here 
very, very shortly, and then we shall proceed 
to business.” 

This announcement of the coming of the 
lady’s brothers was a terrible one to poor, trem- 
bling Arabella, and she glanced at her equally 
uncomfortable companion, who seemed to her a 
very tower of strength at that moment, and who, 
in fact, maintained a brave and unshaken de- 
meanor. 

“And this,” continued the lady, smiling at 
the young girl; “this is — ” 

“Arabella,” put in Mrs. Christie. 

“Arabella!” repeated the other. “What a 
quaint name. I had fancied it was — ’ ’ here she 
again refreshed her memory by glancing at the 
paper, “Anna Rosetta.” 

“But you must remember, Madam,” ex- 
plained Mr. Brown, “that neither the Sister 
Superior nor Mrs. Christie was acquainted with 
the child’s real name.” 

“Oh, of course not,” assented Mrs. Winslow, 
“how very stupid of me. And was it you, Mrs. 
Christie, who gave her the name of Arabella?” 

“Yes,” explained that personage, clearing 
away a slight nervous huskiness in her throat 
and raising her voice. “I gave her that name 
because of the three letters upon the locket.” 


ARABELLA MEETS HER GRAND RELATIONS 59 


“How very clever of you,” cried the lady. 
“What a very good idea !” 

Mrs. Christie did not add that the suggestion 
conveyed by the three letters had further been 
supplemented by a book from the local library, 
whereof “Arabella” was the heroine. 

“I will always call her by that name,” added 
Mrs. Christie with a touch of defiance, “as long 
as I have anything to do with her. * * 

“It is very natural that you should,” agreed 
Mrs. Winslow, inwardly wondering why her 
brothers and the lawyer did not come, that the 
interview with “these people,” which she found 
wearisome, should terminate. It occurred to 
her, morever, that one of them might necessarily 
become her guest, for an indefinite time. The 
idea was far from agreeable. She favored 
Arabella, nevertheless, with a smiling, propitia- 
tory glance. 

“We must get to know each other very well, 
must we not?” she observed. 

“Yes, ma’am,” said Arabella, not knowing 
what else to say. 

Mrs. Winslow shuddered imperceptibly, and 
her further efforts were interrupted by the sound 
of voices in the hall, one of which had a cheery 
and pleasant tone. Nevertheless, poor Arabella 
began to quake, and cast an appealing glance 
towards Mrs. Christie, who maintained, by a 


60 


ARABELLA 


valiant effort, her absolute composure. The 
door was thrown open by the same wooden- 
visaged functionary who had previously admitted 
Mr. Brown and his companions. 

Of the two men then entering the room, one 
was tall, thin and dark, bearing a strong resem- 
blance to the lady of the eyebrows; the other 
was short, round-faced and jovial, with just a 
suspicion of gray in his chestnut hair. The 
first, after a word with Mrs. Winslow, nodded 
carelessly to the lawyer's clerk. 

“How d’ye do, Brown !’’ he exclaimed, and 
with a slight bow to the others, dropped into a 
chair. He put one leg over the other, nursing 
it as though it were a precious object. The 
other man, saluting Mrs. Winslow cheerily, 
addressed a pleasant greeting to the lawyer’s 
clerk, and said, in that same hearty, cordial voice 
already heard in the hall: 

“This is Mrs. Christie, is it not?” 

“Yes,” answered Mrs. Winslow. “Permit 
me, Mrs. Christie, to introduce my brother, Mr. 
Frederick Allston, and another brother, Mr. 
Robert. ” She added this, turning towards the 
tall man, who arose hastily from his chair and 
bowed, while the short one extended his hand. 

“I’m glad to meet you, Mrs. Christie,” he 
said, and Mrs. Christie’s grimly set face relaxed 
into an answering smile. 


ARABELLA MEETS HER GRAND RELATIONS 61 

“And I know, without need of introduction,” 
he continued, “that over here in the corner is 
the little mouse who has been making all the 
trouble. ’ * 

He advanced and held out both his hands, 
taking the girl’s in a strong, reassuring grasp, 
and looking into her face with so kindly and 
sympathetic an expression that Arabella never 
felt afraid of him again. 

“Poor Jack’s daughter,” he murmured, “and 
very like, don’t j^ou think so, Clara?” 

Was it a tear that glistened in the eyes looking 
into her own? Arabella could not be sure. 

“What is your name, my dear?” he inquired. 

“Arabella,” answered the girl. 

“Of course,” interposed Mrs. Winslow, “her 
real name, as you know, is Anna Rosetta. She 
was called Arabella by Mrs. Christie because of 
the three initials on the locket, A. R. A. 
Wasn’t it a good idea ? So clever and original. ” 

She included all the spectators in her glance, 
and the tall man answered: 

“Oh, yes, by Jove, very clever.” 

The short man made no comment. 

“Mrs. Christie,” he said, still holding Ara- 
bella’s hand in his, “you have taken excellent 
care of this, our little girl.” 

“I couldn’t do much for her,” blurted out 
Mrs. Christie, “I hadn’t the means nor the 


62 


ARABELLA 


This speech, in its blunt honesty, commended 
itself to Mr. Frederick, and even his languid 
brother regarded the speaker with a touch of 
interest. Honesty is always a respectable qual- 
ity, and commands favorable attention. After 
that they got to business, only it was first pro- 
posed that Arabella might as well retire. 

“She will be better with the children while 
these matters are being discussed,” suggested 
the short gentleman. 

Mrs. Winslow agreed with this proposition, 
and Mr. Robert languidly examined his finger- 
nails and offered no opinion. Arabella cast a 
terrified glance towards Mrs. Christie. She felt 
as if she were being torn from a strong bulwark 
of protection, but Mrs. Christie, though recipro- 
cating the sentiment, was powerless. Her pres- 
ence and testimony were indispensable at the 
proposed business conference. 

‘ ‘ I think I shall ask Carrie to come and get 
her,” suggested Mrs. Winslow to Mr. Frederick, 
who nodded approval, and an order was given. 
When the door opened again Arabella thought 
it was a vision which appeared upon the thresh- 
old. A little girl with large, soft, violet eyes, 
and hair carefully curled, which fell in a golden 
shower over the white dress she wore. She ad- 
vanced, smiling, into the room, where she was 
warmly greeted by the two men, even Mr. Robert 


ARABELLA MEETS HER GRAND RELATIONS 63 


forsaking his finger-nails and calling her by a 
pet name, which sounded at once appropriate 
and carressing. 

“Carrie,” said Mrs. Winslow, leading her over 
to the corner where poor Arabella sat gazing, 
“this is your cousin” — there was ever so slight 
a pause before the word — “Anna Rosetta.” 

“Otherwise Arabella,” laughed the short 
man. And this was the introduction. 









Chapter VIII. 

Arabeeea Is Introduced. 

‘‘Carrie,” said Mrs. Winslow in her soft, care- 
fully modulated voice, “you are to take your 
cousin to the school-room and introduce her to 
the boys. ’ ’ 

“Yes, mamma,” answered the little girl, 
speaking in clear, distinct tones, and offering 
her hand to Arabella. “Will you come, 
cousin ?” 

Arabella took the offered hand stiffly, uncom- 
fortably, fully realizing for the first time the 
difference between herself and these new rela- 
tions to whom she had been introduced. They 
went up the stairs together, their feet lost in the 
thick pile of the Axminster carpet, wherein 
even the country girl’s thick -soled, clubby 
shoes made no impression. “I have two broth- 
ers upstairs, ” said Carrie, volunteering the in- 
formation as they proceeded. ‘ ‘Reginald is the 
older, and George is next. ’ * 

Arabella made no comment. 


( 65 ) 


66 


ARABELLA 


“Have you got any brothers?” the little girl 
inquired next. 

“No,” said Arabella, “I have nobody.” 

The unconscious pathos of the tone and words 
struck even her inexperienced listener. 

“I am so sorry for you,” remarked Carrie. 
“Do you live all alone ?” 

“No. Of course, there is Mrs. Christie.” 

Carrie looked puzzled. 

“She is the one that came with me to-day. 
And then there is her husband, Mr. Christie, 
but he is old, and hardly ever speaks. ” 

Arabella added this last in a burst of confi- 
dence. 

“I suppose old gentlemen don’t care much for 
little girls,” Carrie said, “unless they are their 
grandchildren.” 

By this time they had reached the school -room 
door, whence proceeded a loud, shuffling sound, 
almost the first that Arabella had heard in this 
noiseless house. When the door was opened 
the cause of this noise was revealed. It was a 
thick-set, chubby boy of about thirteen, who 
was turning a series of somersaults, while astride 
upon a chair, and observing his gyrations, was a 
tall, slim lad, evidently a couple of years older. 
As the two girls appeared upon the threshold 
the tall lad stood up, while the other paused in 
one of his acrobatic feats, resting upon his hands, 


ARABELLA IS INTRODUCED 


67 


head downward, and peering up at the new ar- 
rivals. He slowly let himself down and arose. 

“Boys,” said Carrie, “this is our cousin, Ara- 
bella. ’ ’ 

“Our cousin !” cried the short lad, drawing 
near and gazing at her. Arabella returned the 
gaze with something of defiance. 

“Well,” cried he, “you are a guy ! What a 
queer hat you’ve got on; and such frocks; and 
just look at your shoes !” 

Arabella grew crimson with mortification, and 
the tears forced themselves into her eyes. How 
fervently she wished that she had got those 
new things that Alicia Norris had chosen for 
her. As he spoke the cruel words, George broke 
into a roar of laughter, at which the elder 
brother stepped forward, and seizing him by the 
collar, swung him aside. 

“You unmannerly cub,” he cried, “how dare 
you speak so to your cousin. ’ ’ 

And then he extended his hand. 

“How do you do, cousin ?” he said, politely. 

“Very well,” Arabella strove to answer, but 
her voice choked and broke, while Carrie, look- 
ing at her sympathizingly, apostrophized her 
brother George. 

“Oh, what a shame, Georgie, to be so rude.” 

“I don’t care,” said Georgie, “she is dressed 
queerly; and her face is red, like a cook.” 


68 


ARABELLA 


Again the elder boy interposed, trying to 
silence the incorrigible youngster, and both he 
and Carrie, who was plainly vexed and morti- 
fied, strove to lavish their attentions upon Ara- 
bella. But the iron had entered into her soul. 
The boy had been rude, and the others were kind 
and polite, but the miserable fact remained that 
her face was red, and that her clothes were 
queer and different from the others. Therefore, 
as Georgie stood glowering in the corner, Ara- 
bella said to him, and not to the others: 

“The clothes I’ve got on are the best I have. 
We bought some others to-day, but they’re not 
ready yet, so how could I help it?” 

Her protest was indignant, and at the same 
time it was appealing, and choked by the tears 
of mortification which rose to her eyes. Georgie, 
by a swift movement, came over to her. 

“Well,” said he, “of course, if you couldn’t 
help it; if they’re the best things you’ve got, 
there’s nothing to be said. And you have nice 
eyes, and perhaps your face is only sun- 
burned. ’ ’ 

“It is sun-burned,” Arabella said, brighten- 
ing, and less awed by this boy who spoke the 
brutal truth than by the others, “for my fore- 
head’s quite white under my hair. And the 
others — I mean Mrs. Christie and her sister — 
said that I was not to wear these clothes any 
more. ’ * 


ARABELLA IS INTRODUCED 


69 


“Oh, then you’ll be all right !” declared 
George, confidently. “I don’t care much about 
clothes myself. They say I’m always tearing 
mine, or getting stains on them. But you did 
look mighty queer, and nurse is always telling 
us that we mustn’t play with children that wear 
shabby clothes and rough shoes.” 

Arabella was conscious of another pang at 
finding herself thus thrust out from the sphere 
to which these children belonged, but her first 
passionate resentment against this boy, which 
had flamed up in her heart, died suddenly, and 
in an odd way she felt more at ease with him than 
with the slim and gentlemanly boy, who closely 
resembled his uncle Robert, below stairs, and 
who could never, under any circumstances, have 
committed a rude action. Arabella, in her im- 
pulsive fashion, already loved and admired the 
gentle little girl who had seemed so sorry for 
her, but it was at a distance, almost as if she had 
been one of the characters in her favorite fairy- 
book. 

Amity being once restored, the four were soon 
engaged in a merry play with one of the nursery 
games. The prim and sedate nurse, who had 
been sitting in an adjoining room with one of 
the housemaids and giving her a graphic and 
humorous account of Arabella’s appearance and 
costume, now entered the play-room. She 


70 


ARABELLA 


begged of Miss Carrie not to let the 4 ‘little lady’ ’ 
spoil her good clothes by sitting down on the 
floor. As she spoke thus, George looked up at 
her with a quick, quizical glance. 

4 ‘Arabella hasn’t got any good clothes on to- 
day,” he declared. 

“Oh, fie, for shame, Master George!” cried 
the nurse. 

“But she’s all right, anyway,” continued the 
incorrigible. “I like her, and she says she’ll 
be better dressed next time she comes. ’ ’ 

“You must excuse him, miss,” cried the 
nurse, addressing Arabella. 4 4 He says such very 
rude things, but he has a good heart. ” 

“You said yourself,” argued George, “that we 
mustn’t play with children who wore shoes like 
that,” pointing as he spoke to Arabella’s, “be- 
cause it would make us rough. ’ ’ 

“You are very naughty,” chided the nurse, 
“and I hope the young lady won’t mind.” 

“I don’t mind, now,” Arabella said, “because 
after all, it’s true, and I can’t help it.” 

“Let us go on with the game,” suggested 
Reginald, believing that to be the surest way of 
suppressing his brother and relieving an awk- 
ward situation. “It’s your play, Carrie.” 

The game was continued with zest, and Ara- 
bella, who was naturally genial and sympathetic, 
would have thoroughly enjoyed almost her first 


ARABELLA IS INTRODUCED 


71 


experience of playing with other children, ex- 
cept during recess at school, had it not been for 
the soreness of her heart and the bitter mortifi- 
cation, which had left behind its sting. Children 
are so often unconsciously cruel to each other, 
even when the barbed arrows they employ are 
gilded with truth. How much more so when 
they are false, wanton and malicious. 

Meantime, the grown-ups below stairs, in 
solemn conclave, received the proofs in favor of 
Arabella, though, in point of fact, scarcely a 
doubt had remained as to her complete identifi- 
cation when Mr. Brown was instructed to intro- 
duce her. The additional evidence supplied by 
Mrs. Christie, coinciding in every particular with 
that already in possession of the lawyers, together 
with the marked resemblance borne by the 
countrified and sun-burned girl to the late Jack 
Allston, made assurance doubly sure. There 
could be no reasonable doubt that Arabella wa9 
the daughter of the deeply offending, yet favorite, 
son of the recently deceased head of the family, 
the multi-millionaire, Lawrence Allston. 

He had broken with his son on the occasion 
of the latter’s marriage to a penniless and ob- 
scure girl, and as a compensation he had left to 
the child of this marriage a large share of his 
fortune. The child had been known to exist, 
though after the premature death of her parents 


72 


ARABELLA 


and the removal of those who had temporarily 
taken her in charge to another city, her where- 
abouts had been unknown, and it was only 
through the exertions of detectives that she had 
been traced to the Foundling Asylum and thence 
to the dwelling of the Christies. 

Apart from all other considerations, Mr. All- 
ston had made it imperative upon all the rela- 
tions to receive the girl, and to treat her with 
kindness and consideration, under penalty of 
losing that which they already possessed, 
and other favors and privileges which awaited 
Masters Reginald and George and Miss Caroline 
and others interested, on their respective com- 
ing of age. 

The will was a curious one — a distinct effort 
to repair an old wrong, to make the child of 
Jack’s unpalatable marriage a definite and im- 
portant member of the family, with power, 
moreover, to do precisely what she pleased in so 
far as was consistent, as the document declared, 
with ‘ ‘ duty and propriety. ’ ’ 

Arabella was at liberty to live wheresoever 
she pleased. She was to be offered the option 
of a home with any of the family, but she was 
free to refuse, provided she elected to lire 
with reputable people and in a becoming man- 
ner. 

The other heirs were, without exception, well- 


ARABELLA IS INTRODUCED 


73 


disposed and conscientious people, with a strong 
desire to do the right thing and act honorably 
towards everyone. Not one amongst them had 
ever consciously injured another, nor were they 
capable of meanness. Still there is little doubt 
that in the heart of Mrs. Winslow, at least, was 
an unspoken, probably an unacknowledged 
regret, that Anna Rosetta had been found, and a 
fear lest she should be introduced into her well- 
regulated, if conventional household. 

When Arabella was brought down again to 
the library, where her elders were assembled, 
she found their numbers increased by the arrival 
of the family lawyer, Mr. Van Duzen, employer 
of the smart clerk. He had come to give the 
weight of his importance to the final delibera- 
tions. He sat now, with spectacles on nose, 
carressing his clean-shaven chin and bending 
his formidable eyes, before which many a 
criminal had quailed, on Arabella. The little 
girl was more shame-faced and self-conscious 
than ever, for now she knew the full truth, 
which these well-bred elders had failed to make 
known to her, but which had been blurted out 
by George. They had never, by word or sign, 
displayed their disapproval of her dress or 
manner. Yet she knew now, what possibly she 
had dimly guessed before, that not only was she 
different from these people, but that her costume, 


74 


ARABELLA 


her hat, her shoes, her red and weather-beaten 
face, must be extremely distasteful to their eyes. 

She felt this new truth with the keen and 
poignant mortification of a sensitive and intelli- 
gent child, and it far out- weighed, in her mind, 
any realization of her own present importance or 
the knowledge that she really belonged to these 
grand people, and was one of themselves. 
Therefore the next half hour was one of the 
most trying and uncomfortable of her life, as 
she always afterwards remembered. She got as 
near as she could to Mrs. Christie, who was still 
outwardly brave and undisturbed, but who, as 
Arabella now perceived with a quick pang of 
understanding and of sympathy, was also 
roughly and meanly clad in garments which 
were altogether out of date. 

The lawyer, Mr. Van Duzen, treated Arabella 
with curious deference. He who was in a posi- 
tion to know the whole story could not help 
feeling a distinct regard for the power of wealth, 
the golden garment with which this hitherto 
nameless waif had been suddenly invested. He 
was aware that she was by far the wealthiest 
person present, and that her magnate of a grand- 
father had bestowed upon her special powers of 
aggrandizement or of privilege for others. 
What, then, did clothes matter, or awkward 
rusticity, or bashfulness, or oddity of manner? 


ARABELLA IS INTRODUCED 


75 

All those things were certain to disappear, or if 
they did not it mattered little. 

To the others present these things mattered 
much. Many things mattered, indeed, besides 
the mere possession of wealth, which could 
only be the ultimate goal of very ordinary and 
uncultured beings. They were, however, re- 
solved to do their duty. Even Mrs. Winslow, 
with her chilling artificiality of manner and 
possible absence of that quality known as heart, 
was prepared to accept Anna Rosetta precisely 
as her grandfather had desired. There they all 
sat, concealing their varying emotions under the 
same outward covering of good breeding, and 
awaiting the crucial moment when Arabella 
should make her decision. 


Chapter IX. 

Arabkkka Marks Hkr Choick. 

A great sunbeam made its way into the library 
and lay across the velvet pile of the carpet like 
a message from the Almighty, the loving God, 
whose children are all of equal value in His eyes, 
and who draw near to Him, not at all by their 
wealth or their importance in the eyes of the 
world. There was silence in the room, to Arabella 
an oppressive, awe-stricken silence, as the law- 
yer put on his spectacles and began to read from 
a paper handed to him by his assistant which was 
the formal acceptance of Arabella by her new 
relatives and the provisions regarding her from 
the will of the late Tawrence Frederick George 
Allston. The girl scarcely understood those 
pompous-sounding phrases, still less did she 
fully realize all that they meant to her. 

The others listened to the various announce- 
ments, with most of which they were already 
familiar, with philosophic composure, their faces 
hidden by the impenetrable mask of convention- 
ality. Mrs. Christie felt her breath fairly taken 


( 77 ) 


78 


ARABELLA 


away by the mention of all the wealth that was 
coming to Arabella in money, stocks, bonds and 
real estate — more, far more, in fact, than her 
limited view could comprehend. As she listened 
she realized, with a strange sinking of the heart, 
how far the little girl had been suddenly removed 
from her by this almost appalling wealth. It is 
to the credit of human nature that she was more 
disturbed by the fear that she might lose the 
companion of so many years than elated by the 
prospect of possible advantage to herself. 

She remembered how sturdily Arabella had 
undertaken her share of the work, and how 
thoroughly it had been done. She thought, 
likewise, of the lonely, dreary afternoons, when 
the dusk of autumn or winter closed in about 
the homestead, when Arabella was at hand to 
listen if she chose to talk, putting in a word 
now and again; or occasional long winter even- 
ings when Silas had gone to play cards with a 
neighbor or to attend some political meeting, 
and only the little girl remained between her and 
desolation. She could recall many an evening, 
indeed, when the fierce wind swept eeriely past 
the house, and when she was exceedingly glad 
of the quiet little figure in the shabby frock, 
sitting near her and helping her to mend the pile 
of rough garments or to darn Silas Christie’s 
socks. She realized now how she would miss 


ARABELLA MAKES HER CHOICE 


79 


her, when Arabella had come to live, as seemed 
probable, in this grand house with every comfort 
and luxury, with servants to wait on her, and no 
work whatever to do. 

She looked curiously at Arabella while these 
thoughts were passing through her mind, but 
there was only confused discomfort visible in the 
girl’s face, and no trace of joyfulness or exulta- 
tion. The brown eyes were fixed with pathetic 
bewilderment upon the lawyer as he read. She 
did not even see the looks of encouragement 
that were cast upon her by the short gentleman, 
nor Mrs. Winslow’s somewhat forced but kindly 
smile. 

So the lawyer detailed, in his clear, distinct 
voice, the various sums of money bequeathed 
and devised to the said Anna Rosetta Allston, 
whom Arabella began to suspect might be her- 
self — daughter of the late John Cecil Allston, 
and co-heiress with several others to the estate 
of Lawrence Frederick Allston. The crucial 
moment came, however, when the lawyer was to 
put the question to Arabella as to where she 
wished to live. 

The tall, thin gentleman who had been intro- 
duced to the child as Uncle Robert looked up 
for the first time, interestedly, from the contem- 
plation of the toe of his boot where it rested 
upon his knee; the short man described as Uncle 


80 


ARABELLA 


Frederick leaned forward eagerly, with his 
cheery smile; Mrs. Christie sat bolt upright, 
striving as best she could to conceal all trace of 
feeling. She scarcely doubted what the child’s 
decision would be. Her experience of life had 
been limited, but it had taught her many a cruel 
lesson, and one of them was to expect little from 
others. Arabella had had, in many ways, a 
hard time with her. She would have an easy 
time with these people. Her course was clear. 

Mrs. Winslow leaned back in her chair so that 
her face was in shadow. She was disposed to 
believe that Arabella would decide to cast in her 
lot with them. Her emotions were many and 
conflicting, and she strove to repress the desire 
which arose strongly in her heart that Arabella 
should go away again, and be lost in obscurity, 
leaving her household undisturbed as hereto- 
fore. 

It was a moment of thrilling interest, indeed, 
when the lawyer fixed his spectacled eyes upon 
Arabella and asked her in his half jocular, half 
deferential way: 

“And now, my fair client, the moment has 
come for you to make an important decision. It 
will not bind you, it is true, for life. At any 
time you are free to change. But I ask you now 
to say whether you will accept the home which 
Mrs. Winslow is kind enough to offer you. Am 
I not right, Mrs. Winslow?” 


ARABELLA MAKES HER CHOICE 


81 


“Quite right,” assented Mrs. Winslow. 
“Arabella may make her home with me at any 
time.” 

“Or whether,” continued the lawyer, bowing 
in the direction of the short gentleman, “you 
will accept the hospitality of Mr. Frederick All- 
ston, which I understand is offered.” 

“A hospitality which is heartily at your ser- 
vice, my dear,” said Mr. Frederick, smiling his 
genial smile at Arabella. 

For a moment the girl wavered. She had 
taken an instantaneous fancy to this kind- 
hearted, whole-souled relative. 

“Or would you prefer to take up your abode 
with Mr. Robert Allston, who is also prepared to 
receive you?” 

“If you are not afraid of the discomforts of a 
bachelor establishment,” murmured the tall, 
thin man. His tone was courteous, even kind, 
for he could not have done or said a rude thing, 
and he spoke with evident sincerity. He felt 
sorry for the little thing in the trying ordeal 
which she had undergone. Arabella gave him 
a grateful glance, but she had no hesitation about 
that offer. The girl’s eyes had been wandering 
from one face to another until they rested upon 
the homely and rugged countenance of Mrs. 
Christie. Thereon was an odd look of pathos, 
of regret, a forlornness in the very weariness of 


82 


ARABELLA 


her attitude, that went to Arabella’s heart. 
Amongst all these strangers, too, her face, hard 
as it had sometimes appeared, was the only one 
familiar. 

“Or should you wish any other manner of 
life — ” He hesitated. It seemed so unlikely. 
It was so inadvisable. Yet he felt it his duty to 
put the question. “Or to go back to the 
country with Mrs. Christie?” 

“Oh, yes, yes,” cried Arabella, rising to her 
feet in the eagerness of her desire and throwing 
out her arms in a passionate gesture, which was 
unconsciously dramatic and appealing. “L,et 
me go back with Mrs. Christie. L,et me go 
home !” 

It was a pathetic cry. It brought tears to the 
eyes of more than one present, and it won for 
her golden opinions. It gave evidence of a 
loyalty, an affection and a disinterestedness 
that were certainly to be respected. Yet each 
one felt called upon in turn to enter a protest. 
Mrs. Christie could scarcely believe her ears. 
She made an ineffectual effort to speak, but her 
voice, choked with emotion, failed her, and her 
eyes, which had grown dull and weary with the 
monotony of her life’s dreary landscape, blinked 
hard in an effort to restrain unwonted tears. 
Arabella went over to her after having spoken, 
and stood with a hand resting upon the elder 


ARABELLA MAKES HER CHOICE 


83 


woman’s shoulder, looking half timorously, half 
defiantly, at the rest. 

Oddly enough, it was the languid Mr. Robert 
who first disturbed the silence that followed. 
He crossed the room deliberately and shook Ara- 
bella by the hand. 

“Bravo, little woman!” he said. “Bravo! 
You are of the right metal!” 

Then half ashamed of his vehemence, he sat 
down again. Mr. Frederick, meanwhile, was 
blowing his nose with suspicious vigor, and 
there was something like moisture in his eyes. 
Mrs. Winslow, who could not help feeling 
pleased with the decision, for that very reason 
felt bound to enter the first protest. 

“For the present,” she said, addressing Mr. 
Van Duzen, “we shall, of course, abide by our 
niece’s decision. But I cannot help feeling, and 
I am sure Mrs. Christie will agree with me, that 
such an arrangement can scarcely be permanent. 
Arabella must have all possible advantages of 
training and education to fit her for the position 
she will have to occupy, and in the country it is 
so difficult.” 

She turned apologetically to Mrs. Christie as 
she thus concluded. 

“Yes,” answered Mrs. Christie, “it is difficult, 
and our house is the last place on earth for her 
to get such training. ’ ’ 


84 


ARABELLA 


4 ‘Can’t both be combined?” inquired Mr. 
Frederick. “Can’t she have a governess, or 
something of that sort, to go on with until she’s 
older?” 

Arabella looked gratefully toward the speaker, 
while Mrs. Christie showed perturbation at the 
mention of a governess. 

“Would that be possible?” Mrs. Winslow 
asked. Then seeing and understanding the look 
upon Mrs. Christie’s face, with that quick intui- 
tion which she shared with her niece, she added: 

“The governess need not be resident, you 
know; that is, if there is any one in the village. ” 

Mrs. Christie suddenly brightened. 

“The Purple Lady !” she said joyfully. 

It was Arabella’s turn to look aghast, for the 
personage in question had been the awe and 
terror of her childhood. Mrs. Christie, how- 
ever, satisfied Aunt Winslow in a few brief sen- 
tences that here was possibly an instructress 
who would solve the vexed problem of Arabella’s 
education and training, and relieve her own con- 
science, for the present, at least. She took down 
her address, and declared that she would write 
to her the very next day. 

“And of course,” she said, and her brothers 
heartily echoed the sentiment, “we must see you 
very often, my dear, and you must become better 
acquainted with your cousins.” 


ARABELLA MAKES HER CHOICE 


85 


“And,” suggested Mr. Frederick, “shall we 
not all agree, for greater uniformity, to call her 
Arabella?” 

This suggestion was adopted, after a slight 
hesitation on the part of Mrs. Winslow. And 
so the great conference broke up, the lawyer 
took his leave and Mrs. Christie and her charge 
were whirled away again in the cab by the law- 
yer’s clerk, and this time Arabella thoroughly 
enjoyed the drive. 

Mr. Frederick lingered to say a few serious 
words to his sister. 

“Of course,” he said, “we can’t shake off our 
responsibility concerning poor Jack’s child like 
this. Mrs. Christie seems an honest, reliable 
sort of woman as far as she goes, and no doubt 
it is best to leave Arabella with her for the pres- 
ent, since the girl has so chosen. But she is 
only a child, and cannot be made to bear the 
burden of a decision which might influence her 
whole future life.” 

“Of course not,” agreed Mrs. Winslow with 
a sigh. “And we must do all we can, but I 
don’t mind confessing, Fred, that it is an im- 
mense relief not to have to take her just now.” 

Mr. Frederick turned aside. “Poor little 
waif, ’ ’ he said in an undertone. ‘ * Poor little 
girl ! She has chosen wisely. ’ ’ 


86 


ARABELLA 


There was nothing, however, to be gained by- 
discussing the matter, nor did he make the at- 
tempt. 


Chapter X. 

The Days in Town. 


Never were any storm-tossed mariners better 
pleased to reach a haven than were those two 
wearied and sorely-tried companions to find 
themselves once more in Miss Alicia’s tiny home 
above the shop, in the unaristocratic neighbor- 
hood of Third avenue. They did not have to 
wait this time. Alicia stood at the open door 
and ushered them into the cheeriness of a blaz- 
ing fire, the smell of homely but savory viands, 
and the atmosphere of freedom and kindliness — 
the atmosphere of home. 

Arabella then fully realized, for the first time, 
what the idea of home meant, and in her mind, 
which already seemed to have developed through 
the experiences of the day, she resolved to make 
for herself a home. And herein she was right, 
since it is beyond doubt the most precious thing 
upon earth. When they sat down together at 
the little round table and partook with excellent 
appetites of the good things which Alicia had 
provided, and drank the fragrant tea that could 
( 87 ) 


88 


ARABELLA 


scarcely have been better anywhere, Arabella 
felt happier than she had ever done before. 
After the pleasant meal was over the three 
gathered once more around the fire, recounting 
the various experiences of the day, and heartily 
in sympathy. And this sympathy sometimes 
was indicated by long periods of silence, during 
which each was free to follow out her own 
thoughts. 

Mrs. Christie felt deeply grateful to Arabella 
for her decision, and she really rejoiced in the 
prospect of having her still at the homestead. 
The possibility of her departure had given her 
an added value. Arabella, too, had learned to 
recognize that under all her exterior grimness 
Mrs. Christie was her friend. Alicia, for her 
part, could not feel sufficiently grateful to the 
little girl who had elected to remain with her 
sister, and who had shown such good will 
toward those who had sheltered her in youth. 
The little woman had an almost unlimited ca- 
pacity for listening, which is an excellent and 
very popular gift to cultivate. She was never 
tired of hearing every detail of the memor- 
able interview — of the interior and exterior of the 
house; of Mrs. Winslow, her dress, manners and 
appearance; of Mr. Frederick and Mr. Robert, 
whom Arabella had not yet learned to consider 
as uncles, and also of the children. 


THE DAYS IN TOWN 


89 


Arabella, in the rugged sincerity which she 
had learned from Mrs. Christie, told everything 
that was painful and mortifying, as well as what 
was pleasant. She repeated George’s exact 
words, which caused Alicia to flush painfully 
as she exclaimed: 

“Oh, my dear, wasn’t that hard on you? I 
am afraid he wasn’t a very kind-hearted boy. ” 

“Yes, he was,” answered Arabella. “At 
least I think so. I liked him afterwards. ’ ’ 

And she proceeded to relate the further hap- 
penings in the nursery, and how George had said 
he liked her and that he didn’t care about 
clothes, so that Alicia was appeased in a mo- 
ment, and declared that his first rudeness must 
have been only a boy’s thoughtlessness. 

Once, after a long pause, Arabella said decid- 
edly: 

“We must buy a lot of nice things for the 
house — carpets, curtains and new furniture.’’ 

“Wait,” interposed Alicia, though she smiled 
in sympathy, “until you have a home of your 
own.’’ 

“That is my home,’’ said Arabella, “for I will 
never go to live with any of my rich relations. 
They must come and see me, but I will never 
live anywhere else. ’ ’ 

“But,” protested Mrs. Christie, slowly, “it 
ain’t any sort of a home for you, now you’re 
rich.” 


90 


ARABELLA 


“We can make it better, ’ ’ Arabella said. ‘ ‘We 
can have it papered and painted. That is,” she 
added, as an afterthought, “if Mr. Christie 
doesn’t mind.” 

Mrs. Christie sighed. 

“Ah, you may well say, ‘if Mr. Christie 
doesn’t mind’ ! ” she exclaimed, not without a 
touch of bitterness, “for there’s just the point.” 

That night it was Mrs. Christie who made the 
first move to go to bed. The one day of city 
life, to which she was so long unaccustomed, and 
the unusual strain which she had undergone, 
had left her utterly wearied and exhausted. 
Arabella pleaded to be allowed to sit up a little 
longer with Miss Alicia, and the two fell into a 
confidential chat, during which the new-made 
heiress confided to her friend some of the plans 
which were floating disjointedly through her 
mind. 

“You know,” she said, “I would like to make 
the house more home-like, if Mrs. Christie is 
willing.” 

“I should think she would be delighted,” 
answered Miss Alicia, “for you see, poor soul, 
she has never been able to do much. But I am 
not sure that Mr. Christie will agree. ’ ’ 

“No,” said Arabella, “neither am I.” 

For a sudden remembrance flashed into her 
mind of Silas Christie’s fixed ways of acting, 


THE DAYS IN TOWN 


91 


and his dislike to change and confusion of any 
sort. 

“Well,” said Alicia, hopefully, “perhaps you 
and his wife between you can persuade him,” 
and being like Arabella herself, a dreamer of 
dreams, she could not quite help entering into 
her views and planning plans, even if they were 
never to be carried out. 

“And you must come down next summer,” 
Arabella said. ‘ ‘ I know everybody will be glad 
to have you. ’ * 

“Oh, my dear child,” cried Alicia, “I have not 
been away from here for years and years. I can’t 
afford to travel.” 

“But you must let me send you a ticket,” 
Arabella answered. “Don’t say no, please 
don’t. For what’s the use of my having money 
if no one will let me spend any of it. ’ ’ 

“Well, we shall see about that when the sum- 
mer comes,” Alicia declared, “but in any case 
I suppose your aunt and cousins will go to visit 
you.” 

Arabella weighed this proposition in her mind. 
“I don’t think the lady — ” 

“Your aunt,” corrected Miss Alicia. 

“Well, my aunt. I don’t think she will ever 
come, but George and the little girl, and per- 
haps Reginald may. ’ ’ 

“You will ask them all, of course. Reginald, 


92 


ARABELLA 


from what you say, seems to be a very nice, 
gentlemanly boy.” 

“Yes,” answered Arabella, “but he mightn’t 
care much for the country.” 

“Oh, I’m sure he will,” cried sanguine 
Alicia, “and then the others. ” 

“The gentleman with the bald head,” Ara- 
bella began. 

“You mean your uncle Frederick,” put in 
Alicia, who had a good memory. “And your 
other uncle ?’ * 

“Oh, he would never come,’ ’ Arabella decided, 
“though I would be glad to have him.” 

So these two artless souls talked and laid plans 
until Alicia suddenly remembered that her little 
guest would be tired for all that was yet to come, 
and made her go to bed. And this was an ex- 
cellent precaution, for the next three days were 
very busy ones indeed. In the first place a civil 
note came next morning from Mrs. Winslow, 
saying that she would send the carriage to bring 
her niece for luncheon at her house, after which 
they should do some shopping. They had 
scarcely finished reading this note when a loud 
knock sounded on the outer door, followed by 
the appearance of kindly Mr. Frederick. 

“I came over very early,” he explained, “to 
know what Arabella is going to do, and if there 
is anything Mrs. Christie and she would like to 
see. * * 


THE DAYS IN TOWN 


93 


Arabella then told him about the invitation 
already received, and her uncle said: 

“In that case you will have to keep to-morrow 
for me. My little girl, Marion, is in a fever of 
excitement to see you. You have not heard, 
perhaps, that she is lame and has to go on 
crutches, so that she could not come to see 
you.” 

Mr. Frederick’s bright eyes had been roam- 
ing around the little apartment, which pleased 
him very much, and he noted with pleasure the 
quaint but exquisitely neat figure of Alicia, 
to whom he was presently introduced. 

“You must all come and take luncheon with 
me to-morrow,” he declared genially, “and first, 
if the day be fine, we can take a spin in the 
park.” 

So unaffectedly cordial was his manner that 
the two elder women, surprised and somewhat 
flustered by the invitation, felt constrained to 
accept the proffered hospitality. 

A third message arrived very shortly after Uncle 
Frederick had taken his departure, bringing a 
large box of sweets, such as Arabella had never 
seen, much less tasted, before. They were ac- 
companied by a card, “From Uncle Robert.” 

It seemed to Arabella during that* wonderful 
day as if some of the stories in her fairy book 
must surely have come true. She had not, how- 


94 


ARABELLA 


ever, much time to reflect upon these marvels, 
for she had to prepare for the mid-day meal at 
Mrs. Winslow’s, which that lady called luncheon, 
but which Arabella still described as dinner. 

Alicia, indeed, whirled her away to purchase a 
ready-made suit, a pair of trim walking shoes 
and a hat, which, though not so fine as that 
ordered upon the previous day, was a great im- 
provement upon the one Arabella was wearing. 

“They will not be able to make any remarks 
about your clothes this time,” Alicia said, 
triumphantly, as she put the various parcels into 
the hansom cab hired for the occasion. This 
conveyed them home so quickly that the little 
girl had plenty of time to dress and confidently 
await the Winslow carriage. The latter vehicle 
conveyed the transformed heiress to the mansion 
on Fifth avenue. 

Mrs. Christie felt a bit aggrieved at Mrs. 
Winslow’s determined overlooking of her pres- 
ence. Yet, after all, as Alicia said, such grand 
people could not be expected to ask them to 
their house, and they were happier and better 
where they were, which, indeed, proved to be 
the case, for they sat and talked, after they had 
taken their comfortable dinner of boiled bacon 
and cabbage with mealy potatoes and a custard 
rice pudding. And they fell into a pleasant 
vein of reminiscence, conjuring up from the 


THE DAYS IN TOWN 


95 


past a thousand and one little happenings which 
had lain dormant in their minds, recalling the 
vanished and the dead, bringing to life their 
ghost-like girlhood and far-off, misty childhood. 
Hence the shadows that filled the room as the 
autumn afternoon wore to twilight were peopled 
with many that the two had known and loved. 
It was Arabella who almost seemed unreal as 
she burst in upon the gray-haired women, full 
of news, cheerful, exhilerated, and in the best of 
spirits. That night, when Alicia was tucking 
her into bed, she said, gravely: 

“You will have to pray every day, dear child, 
that your heart may never grow hard nor selfish, 
for prosperity is less easy to bear than adversity, 
and riches sometimes make people forget a lot 
of things.” 

“I will never forget you, Miss Alicia,” Ara- 
bella answered, earnestly, “nor Mrs. Christie. 
And I don’t want to get hard. I would rather 
not be rich.” 

“Our Heavenly Father loves the rich and 
poor alike,” Alicia added, gently, “and I hope 
He will keep you always as you are to-day.” 


I 




Chapter XI. 

A Day With the Winseows. 

Mrs. Winslow found Arabella’s appearance 
much improved by Miss Alicia’s purchases, and 
she was sincerely grateful for the change, since 
she had dreaded taking the little girl into the 
various shops with her, and to her own particu- 
lar modiste. 

Arabella had luncheon with Mrs. Winslow 
alone, as the children took their meals separ- 
ately, in an apartment adjoining the school- 
room. Everything was very strange, and some- 
what oppressive to the little heiress, in that 
great, solemn-looking place, where the portraits 
on the wall seemed to stare down at her. One 
of these was especially pointed out by Mrs. Wins- 
low before sitting down to the table. 

“That, my dear Arabella,” she explained, “is 
your grandfather, Lawrence Allston, your 
father’s father.” 

She did not add “who has left you all the 
money,” nor was that fact uppermost in the 
( 97 ) 


98 


ARABELLA 


little girl’s mind. She was more impressed by 
the idea that that splendid gentleman, with his 
stern, bearded face and air of self-conscious im- 
portance, should be her grandfather, the parent 
of that father whom she had never known. The 
portrait, being a very real one, appeared to 
dominate the room. Arabella stole many a 
glance thereat, as she sat opposite Mrs. Winslow 
at the table, with its exquisite napery, glass and 
silver, and ate mechanically of the various 
dishes, which were all new to her, and most of 
which she did not like. Mrs. Winslow, who 
wanted to be kind, strove not to notice various 
details of the child’s table manners, which 
jarred upon her excessively, and which appeared 
all the worse now that Arabella was sorely op- 
pressed by her presence and that of the butler, 
who waited upon her with such stony impas- 
sibility. He was as silent, save for an occa- 
sional monosyllable, as the portraits on the wall. 
Even the dainty sweetmeats, and the fruit, 
which at another time she would have enjoyed, 
were eaten uncomfortably or refused altogether, 
out of very shyness. 

She had a nervous suspicion that her grand- 
father was likewise observing her from out his 
gold frame, whence he seemed as if he were on 
the very point of speaking to her. When the 
meal was concluded Mrs. Winslow, trying to be 


A DAY WITH THE WINSLOWS 


99 


kind, took Arabella’s hand in her own slim and 
delicate one and led her about the room, show- 
ing her the other portraits. 

‘‘That is your grandmother,” she observed, 
pausing belore the representation of an elderly 
lady in a brocaded gown, with auburn hair 
smoothly brushed away from a high forehead. 

‘‘Oh, she is pretty !” cried Arabella, attracted 
by the face, which was so much milder than 
that of her husband. 

‘‘Yes, dear mother was very beautiful in her 
youth,” said Mrs. Winslow, smiling at the child 
and pleased by her admiration, ‘‘and your father 
was very like her. ’ ’ 

‘‘You are very like her, too!” Arabella de- 
clared, bluntly, though she felt, without being 
able to express, the subtle difference. The 
pictured face was so much gentler, as if all the 
years which she had lived had smoothed away 
all that was hard or merely superficial, and the 
elder woman had evidently been much fairer in 
coloring. 

‘‘Ah, little flatterer !” Mrs. Winslow exclaimed, 
lightly patting the child’s hand, ‘‘I believe lam 
considered like her, though with a difference. 
And now, should you like to go up to the school- 
room and have a game with the children while I 
am dressing to go out? And I may as well 
confess that I take a little nap after luncheon.” 


100 


ARABELLA 


To Arabella it seemed very strange that any- 
body could possibly go to sleep in the middle of 
the day, but she had come to the conclusion that 
everything was strange in this atmosphere. 
Mrs. Winslow rang the bell, and the nurse was 
summoned to take Miss Allston to the school- 
room, where George was the first to greet her. 

“Oh, halloa!” he cried. “I’m glad you 
came. I want to show you a new book I just 
got from Uncle Fred.” 

Reginald and Carrie also greeted Arabella 
warmly, being, in truth, delighted to see any one 
who broke in on the monotony of their daily 
lives, for they were almost as tired of everything 
as their elders, upon whom pleasure and amuse- 
ment, and all that money could buy had palled. 
George, meanwhile, from a shelf upon the wall, 
had produced a book, and squatting down upon 
the floor, invited Arabella to sit upon a tiny 
stool near by. While the little girl was hesi- 
tating about accepting the invitation George 
suddenly looked up and said: 

“Say, Arabella, you look ever so much better 
to-day. You’ve got on those new clothes you 
were talking about. ” 

“George!” said Carrie, reprovingly. 

“It isn’t any harm to say her clothes are 
nice,” George remonstrated, indignantly. 
“Every girl likes to hear that. And her shoes 


A DAY WITH THE WINSLOWS 


101 


are pretty, too. Just like yours, Carrie.” 

Arabella flushed with pleasure. 

“We bought them yesterday,” she answered, 
“just as soon as I was asked to come here. ” 

“Did you get a hat, too?” George inquired, 
with interest. 

“Yes,” answered Arabella, “it’s downstairs. 
But these ain’t the clothes I told you about. 
They’re not ready yet,” 

“You can get all the clothes you want, ’ ’ George 
observed, reflectively. “You’re very rich, 
now. ’ ’ 

“I suppose so,” the heiress answered, care- 
lessly. “I don’t know nothing about money.” 

“It was our grandfather left it to you,” George 
explained, ignoring the grammar. 

“Yes, but I guess he was mine, too, wasn’t 
he?” 

“I suppose so. Did you ever see him ?” 

“No,” Arabella answered, shaking her head. 

“We often saw him. Didn’t we, Carrie?” 

“Yes,” said Carrie, who had stood by ex- 
changing glances with Reginald about George’s 
bluntness. “He used to give us sweets, and 
silver money. Once he gave us a five dollar 
gold piece. ’ ’ 

“Were you afraid of him,” Arabella asked, 
thinking of the portrait below stairs. 

“No; oh, no,” answered Carrie. 


“I don’t 


102 


ARABELLA 


think children are ever afraid of their grand- 
fathers.” 

“I was scared of his picture downstairs,” 
Arabella confessed. 

‘‘Scared of a picture!” scoffed George. 
“Girls are such cowards, anyway. What harm 
could a picture do you?” 

“It wasn’t that,” Arabella answered, “but all 
the time I was at the table I kinder felt as if he 
was lookin’ at me, and that he was a-going to 
talk.” 

George pondered, feeling that the situation so 
described might be uncomfortable. 

“But he couldn’t speak,” he exclaimed, at 
last. “Why, he’s dead ! ’ ’ 

Arabella did not attempt to explain further. 
She sat down upon the stool indicated, with 
Carrie kneeling beside her at one side and 
George upon the other, and together they exam- 
ined the splendid, new book, full of beautiful 
pictures. Reginald sat down with something of 
the loftiness of his additional two years and read 
a book on his own account. The time passed 
pleasantly enough until the nurse, who, like the 
governess, had disappeared, leaving the children 
to their own devices, now reappeared to tell Miss 
Carrie that she must come and be dressed to go 
out driving with her mamma and her cousin. 
Carrie clapped her hands with delight, and in- 


A DAY WITH THE WINSLOWS 


103 


stantly obeyed the summons. Reginald excused 
himself at the same moment, saying he had to 
go down town on a message for his mother, and 
Arabella was left alone with George. He was 
disposed to grumble that he could not go out 
driving, too, but he knew, as did everyone in 
that well-ordered house, that there was no appeal 
from any decision. 

Arabella suddenly said, after a pause: 

“I wonder why that old gentleman left me all 
that money. ’ ’ 

“Why, because he was your grandfather, 
silly,” answered George. 

“I know !” declared Arabella, “But still, he 
didn’t know me.” 

“Grandfathers always leave money,” George 
decided. “He left us all some, too. Not 
that I care much for money. I’d like to be poor, 
and go and play with the boys in the street, and 
wear ragged clothes. ’ ’ 

Then he regarded Arabella very earnestly, 
and said in a whisper : 

“If I were you I’d stay poor. I wouldn’t 
take the money. ” 

Arabella looked puzzled. 

“Why?” she asked. 

“Because you can have a great deal more fun,” 
George answered. 

“Still,” objected Arabella, “it’s nice to have 


104 


ARABELLA 


money and be able to buy things. I want to get 
presents for Mrs. Christie and Alicia, and if Mr. 
Christie will let me, I want to paint and paper 
our house. ’ ’ 

“Oh, that’ll be fun!” cried George. “Are 
you going to do it yourself ? I’d like to come 
down and help you. Where do you live?” 

‘ ‘ In the country. At Kenoosha. ” 

‘ ‘ Kenoosha ? Where’s that ? Is it far away ?” 

“Pretty far. It took us a good while to come 
here in the train. ’ ’ 

“Oh,” said George, with a heavy sigh, “I’m 
afraid I won’t be allowed to go, then.” 

“Perhaps you could in the summer,” sug- 
gested Arabella. “Eots of folks come down 
there in the hot weather. ’ ’ 

“Hurrah !” cried George. “I’m going to 
ask mamma to let me go. ’ ’ 

“And I’ll ask Mrs. Christie to let you come,” 
Arabella added, “after the house is papered and 
painted. ’ ’ 

“Why, isn’t it your house?’’ 

The girl shook her head. 

“Oh, then, mamma won’t let me go !” 

“Perhaps she will, if Mrs. Christie asks; and 
the little girl can come, too, and your brother.” 

“That would be tip-top, for Reggie might 
bring his pony and Carrie her phaeton, and I’ll 
bring — well, I don’t know exactly what. But 


A DAY WITH THK WINSLOWS 


105 


it would be more fun before the painting and 
papering are done. I’d like to wear overalls, 
like the man that’s doing the house opposite, 
and paint. ’ ’ 

Arabella was doubtful about this latter propo- 
sition, remembering the exact methods of Silas 
Christie. 

“I guess Mr. Christie will want to do the 
painting himself,” she admitted, despondently, 
“and he won’t let no little boys help.” 

George sighed again, still more heavily, for 
well he knew the limitations of a boy’s life. By 
that time, however, Carrie was ready, and Ara- 
bella was summoned by the obsequious nurse to 
have her hair tidied and her hands washed. 

It may be said at once that the shops they 
visited that afternoon and the dressmakers to 
whom orders were given were very different, in- 
deed, from those which Miss Alicia had patron- 
ized, and the purchases far beyond her wildest 
imaginings. And this despite the fact that Mrs. 
Winslow believed in simplicity for young girls, 
and eschewed finery which would be suitable only 
for their elders. But it was in the number and 
variety of things chosen, in the fineness of ma- 
terial and perfection of cut that her exquisite 
taste was displayed. 

Mrs. Winslow was well aware of the unsuit- 
ability of some of these toilet accessories to life 


106 


ARABELLA 


in the Christie homestead, but she considered 
the possibility of frequent visits to town on the 
part of her niece, and she was resolved that she 
should be provided with things requisite for 
every occasion. 

In her communication to the personage known 
at Kenoosha as the “Purple I^ady,” concerning 
whom Mrs. Winslow had made discreet in- 
quiries from the parish priest, she had clearly 
explained everything, and that in the event of 
her assuming the responsibility of Arabella’s 
training she would be expected to cultivate her 
table manners, to correct her pronunciation and 
her grammar, and, in fact, to mould her to the 
requirements of her new station, and make asso- 
ciation on an equal footing possible with her 
relatives and others of their set. She was thus, 
in every way, preparing for that constant com- 
munication between Arabella and the Allston 
family which the future seemed likely to bring 
forth. 

She and Carrie made rapid strides towards a 
warm, childish friendship in the course of that 
afternoon, so that Arabella confided to her dainty 
little cousin that same project of which she had 
already spoken to George, of having them all 
down at Kenoosha in the summer. 

“Of course, Mrs. Christie’s house, where I 
live, ain’t grand like yours,” she said, “but city 


A DAY WITH THE WINSLOWS 


107 


folks don’t seem to care in the summer. There’s 
lots of woods ’round there, and a lake to fish in, 
and nice walks and rides. ’ ’ 

Carrie was almost as enthusiastic as George 
over the proposed expedition, and mentioned 
the subject to her mother, who did not give a 
very decided answer, but smiled and gently re- 
minded Arabella that she was not living in her 
own house. 

That evening, on returning to Alicia’s flat, 
the little girl told Mrs. Christie of what she had 
said to the children, and was surprised to find 
that Mrs. Christie received the proposition with 
something like dismay. 

“For the land’s sake !” she cried. “What on 
earth should I do with people like that? Why, 
there ain’t a decent stick of furniture in the 
house; and the carpets, where there is any, is 
worn threadbare, and the paint is off most every- 
where.’’ 

Arabella, crestfallen, nevertheless renewed her 
previous offer of spending enough money to 
renovate the house completely. Mrs. Christie 
kindled somewhat at the inspiring thought, a 
flush rose to her cheek and a light came into 
her faded eyes. Then the light faded and the 
flush died. 

“I’ve been thinkin’ over what you said the 
other night,’’ she declared slowly, “but I’m 


108 


ARABELLA 


most sure it can’t be done. Silas Christie, he’s 
awful set in his own way, and I don’t expect 
he’ll let us overhaul the house.” 

Arabella’s face fell, and her hopes sank low. 
She remembered Silas’ grim countenance, and 
slow, methodical ways, and began to fear that, 
indeed, the wife was right, and that it would 
scarcely be safe, even so much as to mention the 
subject before him. She went to bed feeling 
very downcast, and arguing within herself 
that it wasn’t much use having money if you 
couldn’t spend it as you wished. Her pleas- 
ant vision of a visit from her city cousins 
faded, also, for how could she ever invite them to 
the homestead, even if Mr. Christie were willing, 
with things in their present condition. She had 
already learned enough herself to be able to 
fancy how Reginald’s politeness and Carrie’s 
gentleness would strive to cover deficiencies and 
conceal their secret wonder, while George would, 
no doubt, express his honest surprise, and mortify 
them all by open criticism. Besides, it was 
always possible that Silas would not permit the 
invitation to be given at all, and Arabella began 
to realize that in her new elation and the fullness 
of her heart she had been guilty of an indiscre- 
tion in acting as if the house where she had 
merely been sheltered was actually her home. 
And yet, so curious are the workings of human 


A DAY WITH THE WINSLOWS 


109 


destiny, that, as shall be seen hereafter, it was 
really Silas Christie who furthered her design, 
though not precisely as she had intended. 



Chapter XII. 

Mr. Frederick’s Daughter. 

Meanwhile, Arabella had to make the ac- 
quaintance of another cousin, and to enjoy her 
last day’s outing in the city. After that, she 
and Mrs. Christie were to take the afternoon 
train homeward on Saturday, and so be settled 
before Sunday. At half past ten the following 
morning an unwonted sight met the eyes of the 
shop people below, and all the dwellers in that 
neighborhood. This was the appearance before 
the door leading to Miss Alicia’s quarters of Mr. 
Frederick Allston’s handsome motor car. Mrs. 
Christie and her sister were much flustered. 
The former had never, before coming to the city, 
seen one of these machines, which were still 
unknown in Kenoosha, and Alicia had only 
viewed them from afar. 

“ I thought,” said Mr. Frederick, addressing 
Mrs. Christie, “that you would all enjoy a spin 
in the park before going home to have a chop 
with my little girl.” 


(Ill) 


112 


ARABELLA 


It was a memorable occasion, never to be for- 
gotten by any of the good gentleman’s guests. 
As they frankly declared before starting that 
they had never been in an automobile in their 
lives, Mr. Frederick advised them to put on 
veils, which should prevent their hair from fly- 
ing and the dust from being troublesome. This 
wise counsel was followed by the two women, 
but Arabella could scarcely be persuaded so 
much as to keep on her hat, so that her brown 
hair floated in the wind, and as the motor left 
the city behind and bowled over the smooth 
roads of the park she simply forgot her manners 
and yelled with delight, a delight which found 
an echo in the breast of her good natured uncle 
and added to his own pleasure. He took par- 
ticular pains to show every sight, only regretting 
that nature had austerely withdrawn the bravery 
of her mid-summer verdure from the trees and 
withered the grass. 

Poor little Miss Alicia felt as if she were 
dreaming, and enjoyed herself thoroughly, an 
enjoyment which was considerably marred for 
Mrs. Christie by her dread of the swiftly moving 
machine, which she expected might at any 
moment fly to pieces and precipitate her into 
space. She bravely repressed an inclination to 
start at every puff and groan of the motor, every 
creak of the machinery. She confided to Alicia, 


MR. FREDERICK’S DAUGHTER 


113 


and also to her husband and an admiring circle 
of the neighbors long after, that for her part she 
guessed she preferred a horse any day, and a 
good, solid wagon. She didn’t hold, she de- 
clared, with any of these newfangled inventions. 

To Arabella, on the contrary, that drive was 
pure delight. The automobile is the vehicle by 
excellence for youth. It comes nearest, perhaps, 
to a realization of their swift, impetuous long- 
ings, their ardor, their hopes ever speeding be- 
fore, their inexhaustible vitality. Moreover, 
the sky overhead was deepest blue, the sunshine 
at its brightest, the autumn air clear and brac- 
ing. Tike all things earthly, however, that 
drive came to an end, and the motor stopped be- 
fore the door of Mr. Frederick’s handsome 
apartments in Madison Avenue. Peering out of 
the plate glass window, from between the rich 
silk curtains, Arabella caught sight of a weird, 
pallid little face, with two eyes of greenish gray, 
that almost startled her, and at the same moment 
Mr. Frederick exclaimed, his voice softening 
and his face growing tender: 

“There’s my little one looking out for us. 
Poor little mite ! Poor little Marion !” 

Then he added hastily, as if to prepare the 
others for the appearance of the child: 

“You know, she has never walked. The 
nurse let her fall when she was an infant.’ * 


114 


ARABELLA 


The tears came into his eyes, and he turned 
away his head. Arabella felt so sorry for him 
and for the little girl that a lump rose in her 
throat. She looked at her own strong, young 
limbs, and it suddenly occurred to her how much 
she had to be thankful for in her own excellent 
health and vitality. She had often secretly la- 
mented that her life was so lonely, and had 
wondered how other little girls felt who had a 
home and parents of their own, but here was a 
child who had many things which she had cov- 
eted, and yet was deprived of so much. 

She had little time for reflection, as in another 
moment Mr. Frederick had ushered them in 
through the portico, all hard wood and polished 
marble, and the spacious hall, where a shining 
ebony-colored janitor smiled at him, and into 
the large, high ceilinged rooms which consti- 
tuted those handsome ground- floor apartments. 

Arabella thought she had never seen any place 
so absolutely bright and cheerful, except, per- 
haps, green meadows stretching under the blue 
sky of heaven on sunshiny days. The floors, 
also of hard wood and highly polished, were 
covered with bright colored rugs. The silk 
curtains were of yellow, to catch every ray of 
light. Flowering plants stood about in profu- 
sion. An orange tree and some blossoming 
shrubs gave the appearance of a garden or south- 


MR. FREDERICK’S DAUGHTER 


115 


ern grove. The furniture consisted of gold- 
colored brocade, or of wicker adorned with gay- 
tinted ribbons. The few but handsome orna- 
ments were all of a cheerful tendency. Pictures 
of smiling women and children looked from the 
walls. Mirrors flashed back the various objects 
displayed within the room, and the large bay 
window gave an excellent view of the street. 

In fact, every detail of a general plan had 
been carefully considered to create the most 
cheerful atmosphere possible for the poor, wan, 
little creature, who sat upon a sofa near the 
window, propped up with cushions and attended 
by a negro nurse. The cripple’s wan face was 
aglow with interest and pleasure as she turned 
towards her father and his guests. 

“Oh, papa,” she cried, “you were so long 
away ! Wasn’t he, nurse ? And I was so anx- 
ious to see my new cousin ! ’ ’ 

“Well, here she is, at last,’’ Mr. Frederick 
answered, bending over her tenderly. “And I 
am so sorry, darling, if you found the time 
long.” 

“Oh, it doesn’t matter, dear,” Marion an- 
swered, stroking his face with her thin little 
hand. “I shouldn’t be so impatient. ” 

Arabella felt the tears come into her eyes as 
she took that small, wasted hand, and stood 
looking down from the height of her own 
strength and vitality. 


116 


ARABELLA 


“Why are you crying?” asked Marion, fixing 
her solemn eyes upon Arabella’s face. “I hope 
you didn’t get hurt, or anything.” 

“Oh, no !” cried Arabella, brushing away the 
tears. “It was lovely out, and I never was in 
one of them cars before. ’ * 

“Neither was I,” declared Marion. “They 
say it would jolt me too much. For you see I 
am a cripple, and can’t even walk. But I go out 
in the carriage. ’ ’ 

Arabella could find no words to say, she felt 
so very sorry, and Mr. Frederick relieved the 
pause by bringing Mrs. Christie and her sister 
forward. Mrs. Christie shook hands stiffly with 
the little girl, but Miss Alicia, moved by an im- 
pulse of pity which leveled all distinctions, 
stooped and kissed her. Marion stroked her 
cheek and seemed pleased. 

“You’ve got such pretty white curls,” she 
said. “Are you the little girl’s mamma?” 

“No, my dear,” answered Miss Alicia, “she 
has got no mamma. ’ ’ 

“Poor little girl, ” exclaimed Marion, “I have 
none, either, but perhaps she has got a papa. ” 

Miss Alicia shook her head. 

“Oh, what does she do?” cried the cripple, in 
a voice of real emotion. “Arabella, I am so sorry 
for you. ’ ’ 

Mr. Frederick once more made a diversion by 


MR. FREDERICK’S DAUGHTER 


117 


sending the negro mammy to assist the two 
women and Arabella in taking off their wraps, 
which that functionary did with the kindly 
effusion of her race. This done, luncheon was 
served, Marion being carried by her father into 
the dining room and placed beside Arabella, at 
the beautifully appointed table. That apart- 
ment, fairly flooded with sunshine, was quite as 
cheerful as the other, and the repast was a 
delightful one. There was not an atom of for- 
mality, so that the guests felt at their ease imme- 
diately. Everybody laughing and chatting as 
they enjoyed the well-cooked and appetizing 
viands. Arabella, in particular, had brought in 
a ravenous appetite from the park, so that she 
was almost ashamed of eating so very much, 
especially as Marion scarcely took anything at 
all. 

The luncheon over, she went off with Marion 
and the negro nurse to the playroom, where 
were every conceivable kind of books and toys. 
They had a glorious time playing together, and 
the nurse told them stories, and they talked, 
the eager, speculative talk in which children 
indulge, embracing past, present and future. 
They had very soon confided to each other every 
detail of their history. Arabella, after what 
Mrs. Christie had said, did not actually invite 
Marion to come to Kenoosha, but she threw out 


118 


ARABELLA 


vague hints, hoping that matters might in some 
way be arranged, and feeling quite sure that 
neither Mr. Frederick nor his daughter would 
mind very much if the paint were worn off or 
the carpets threadbare. She even decided in 
her own mind upon a very sunny and cheer- 
ful room in the homestead, which might be 
got ready for Marion, if Mr. Christie would 
consent. And Silas, as Arabella knew, was 
not an inhospitable man, and would most likely 
welcome these people who had been kind 
to his wife. Arguing thus, with the shrewd 
and precocious wisdom which circumstances had 
given her, she felt quite hopeful that her desire 
in this case might be fulfilled. 

Marion’s imagination immediately took fire at 
the thought of cool, shady woods, meadows and 
lanes, where wild flowers grew in abundance, 
though, as she said, pathetically, somebody else 
would have to pick them for her, and bushes 
loaded with berries and a lake, whereon boats 
were constantly plying. Marion had quite made 
up her mind to visit Kenoosha the next summer, 
and only deplored that so many months must 
intervene. And she said so to her father. 

“You must come and visit us,” declared Mrs. 
Christie, charmed at the hospitable reception 
she had met with in that delightful household, 
“you and your father, too, if you won’t mind 
our plain, homely ways.” 


MR. FREDERICK’S DAUGHTER 


119 


“I think you will be almost certain to see us 
in Kenoosha this summer,” agreed Mr. Fred- 
erick, reserving to himself the option of accept- 
ing or declining the proffered hospitality, as 
circumstances might dictate, “and I know 
Marion will begin to count the days from this 
time on.” 

Always, when the three got back to Miss 
Alicia’s flat, they were like birds flying home- 
ward to a nest, glad of the quiet after the roar 
and bustle of the thoroughfares, the strange 
sights and sounds. That evening, however, 
Arabella could talk of nothing but Marion. She 
had begun to like and to feel friendly with her 
other cousins, but she had taken little Marion 
into her inmost heart, whence she was never to 
be dislodged. And Marion felt towards the 
newly arrived relative as she had never felt 
towards any of those others whom, brought up 
as she was herself, she had known all her life. 
Arabella seemed to bring with her the freshness 
and breeziness of the country, the marked indi- 
viduality and the power of sympathy, so often 
born of adversity. Her intelligence had been 
quickened by circumstances, her views of life were 
new; even her speech was original. And because 
of these things she proved attractive to many, 
and straightway won this particular cousin’s 
affection and consequently that of the father. 







Chapter XIII. 

Home Again. 

It was with real sorrow, the sharp, poignant 
sorrow of childhood, that Arabella bade good- 
bye to Miss Alicia and her cozy, little home that 
remained forevermore engraved upon the girl’s 
memory as the type of all that was comfortable 
and happy. She was somewhat consoled by 
Miss Alicia’s cordial invitation to come again 
and spend some days with her, and by her 
promise to visit the homestead next summer. 
Arabella, indeed, beguiled the tediousness of 
the return journey with many delightful specu- 
lations regarding that summer and its doings. 

At the station Silas Christie met them with 
“the team. ” Characteristically, he asked not a 
single question, nor did his wife at that moment 
offer any information. They drove silently 
home through the darkening landscape, with 
the pale stars gleaming out here and there 
through the November gray ness, and the lights 
of the village twinkling from afar, or at inter- 
vals down the road, like the lesser stars of 
earth. 


( 121 ) 


122 


ARABELLA 


The homestead certainly looked to Arabella, 
and no doubt to Mrs. Christie, the most forlorn 
and desolate place possible. It had but one 
saving grace, a homely familiarity. It was a 
rude shelter, as it were, from the buffetings, the 
uncertainties of that beautiful, brilliant world 
they had quitted. The two went indoors silently, 
while Silas drove around to the stable to unhar- 
ness. In the hallway the woolly, brown dog, in 
raptures, welcomed Arabella by short barks and 
whines and frantic rushings up and down and 
leaping upon the beloved object. Had a human 
being so conducted himself he would most cer- 
tainly have been considered daft. Arabella bent 
over him, feeling a certain warmth at her heart 
in the affection and greeting of this dumb creat- 
ure. She caressed him and called him by name, 
whispering into his woolly ear. Mrs. Christie 
went on into the sitting-room and lighting the 
lamp, looked about her, as if she had never seen 
the place before. 

“Well,” she observed, with a sigh, addressing 
Arabella, “it ain’t quite so grand as them houses 
we’ve bin seem’ and it’s a long way behind 
Alicia’s place in coziness, but I’m kinder glad 
to get here, anyhow. For, after all, I’m used to 
it and it’s used to me.” 

Despite the dreariness of the dwelling and 
the lack of comfort in their home-coming, 


HOME AGAIN 


123 


Arabella had something of the same feeling, 
that sentiment, which, partly, at least, had 
caused her to refuse the luxurious life she might 
have had with any one of her rich relations. 

Nor was the place ever quite so dreary again, 
as shall appear in the sequel. For that visit to 
the city, hitherto but dimly remembered, had 
opened Mrs. Christie’s eyes, or rather it had 
been like putting on powerful spectacles. The 
supper was very coarse and rude, indeed, and 
Arabella noted the barren plainness of the table, 
with forks and knives and other appurtenances 
thrown on almost at random, the table cloth 
coarse and not too spotless, and the boiled beef 
and potatoes and the sodden bread pudding. At 
the table, Mrs. Christie threw out one or two 
crumbs of information. She knew Silas Christie’s 
peculiarities, and had no mind to provoke his ire 
or incite him to grim sarcasm by long recitals of 
their experiences, while Arabella had already 
relapsed into the reticence of years. Mrs. Chris- 
tie, indeed, looked at her curiously from time to 
time, perfectly aware of the difference, and feel- 
ing that this was scarcely the same child who 
had been so communicative with Alicia, or so 
merry and light-hearted in Frederick’s motor in 
the park. She, however, made no comment, 
but began to give Silas Christie homeopathic 
doses of news. 


124 


ARABELLA 


“Alicia, she’s got a neat, pretty sort of little 
place there.” 

Silas made a sound expressive of assent. 

“It’s mighty nice and comfortable.” 

“Seems to me she’d get lonesome at times.” 

“No, I guess not. She lives in a lively quar- 
ter of the town.” 

Then there was dead silence, broken only for 
a considerable interval by the clatter of knife 
and fork. 

“Arabella, here, she’s got a pile of money.” 

“Yes,” assented the man, indifferently, “I 
guess that’s what took you down to town.” 

“She had the chance to stop there.” 

“She was a fool not to take it.” 

“She’s got some mighty big relations.” 

“Most ways they’re not much use to any one. 
Better without. ’ ’ 

Silence again. 

“Why didn’t you ask Alicia to come up for a 
spell?” Silas Christie asked, after a while. He 
had pleasant recollections of his sister-in-law. 

“I guess she may in the summer time.” 

“Afraid of the cold, is she?” Silas asked. 
“City folks always has it in their head that the 
country’s colder than the town. ” 

“It ain’t that so much, but I thought summer 
would be the best time. ’ ’ 

“Just as you please, mother,” Silas agreed, 


HOMK AGAIN 


125 


and after that no more was said till the dishes 
were all cleared away, the cattle fed outside, and 
Silas took his clay pipe and sat down near the 
kitchen fire. The kitchen was a large, barn- 
like room; indeed, all the rooms might be thus 
described. There was not a single line of grace 
or beauty in the whole establishment. Before 
sitting down, Mrs. Christie finished her various 
tasks precisely at the same time and in the same 
way as if she had never been absent. Arabella 
sat demurely, with the woolly dog, contented 
and happy, curled up at her feet, and Silas 
Christie surveyed her occasionally from under 
his shaggy eyebrows. He was pondering deeply 
on the fragmentary information he had received. 

“So you came back again to Kenoosha?” he 
observed. 

“Yes,” answered Arabella, uncomfortably, “I 
came back. * ’ 

She felt far less at ease in the company of this 
rugged, bearded man, with his shaggy eye- 
brows, unkempt hair and shabby clothing than, 
for instance, with the genial Uncle Frederick. 

“They asked you to stop down thar?” Silas 
inquired next. 

“Yes,” said Arabella, “the lawyer asked 
me.” 

“But did your folks ask you themselves?” 

“Yes, they did,” replied the little girl. 


126 


ARABELLA 


There was a gleam of curiosity in the eyes, 
usually as impassive as Mrs. Christie’s own, that 
glowered from under the shaggy eyebrows, as 
Silas asked: 

“Why did you come back here, then?” 

“Because I wanted to.” 

Silas was silent after that for several minutes, 
blowing out wreaths of smoke and pondering 
once more. 

“So you didn’t want to leave the Missis?” he 
resumed, at last, with an odd, softened kindliness 
in his tone. 

Arabella shook her head. 

“And strange, too,” Silas said, thinking 
aloud, “how set most folks is on home, even 
when it’s the uncomfortablest place in creation.” 

There was a long silence after that. The man 
seemed to have forgotten the quaint little figure 
of the child sitting so quietly on the opposite 
side of the table. 

Mrs. Christie soon came to take her accus- 
tomed place in a stiff, high-backed chair, where 
the click, click of the needles made themselves 
heard. 

Tong after Arabella had retired that night and 
had counted over her treasures, and glanced into 
the pages of her fairy book, and felt the odd 
sense that what is most familiar seems unfamiliar 
after absence, the two below sat for the most 


HOME AGAIN 


127 


part in a grim silence, such as they had sat in 
for years. Only their vigil was prolonged that 
night, an unparalleled thing, for so long after 
Silas’ bedtime, and an occasional question was 
put by him and a terse and telling answer 
given by his better half. In the meantime 
Silas had heard, spasmodically, and without 
any continued narrative, almost all that there 
was to tell. 

He knew of the scene at the Winslow’s when 
Arabella had made her decision, of the girl’s 
introduction to her cousins, of the shopping 
excursions, and of the drive in Uncle Frederick’s 
motor car, and the luncheon at his apartments, 
of her own talk with Mrs. Winslow, and the 
latter’s determination to put Arabella’s educa- 
tion, if possible, into the hands of the Purple 
Uady. Fast, but not least, for Mrs. Christie was 
wise in her generation and possessed the wifely 
sagacity born of long years of married life, she 
seized the present favorable opportunity to tell 
him of Arabella’s proposal to remodel the 
house. 

Silas in his undemonstrative fashion showed 
his pleasure at her return and was, consequently, 
more disposed to listen and to talk than he had 
been many times in this thirty odd years of 
matrimony. Therefore, when she told him of 
Arabella’s offer, he did not relapse into his gruff 


128 


ARABELLA 


humor, as his wife had expected, nor protest, 
emphatically, against such doings, 

“It’s a good offer,’’ he said, deliberately, “and 
it shows that the girl’s got a head on her 
shoulders and a heart. By jingo, it does. I 
don’t say just now as I’ll accept of it, nor allow 
her to make my house her’n. But I’ve got a 
notion in my head, and I’m pretty well satisfied 
that it’s a good one. ’’ 

Mrs. Christie was too wise to put a direct 
question, so she kept silent, her needles clicking 
away more busily than ever, as if they were her 
thoughts. 

“And my notion is,’’ added Silas Christie, “to 
let the girl have her home and us ours. ’ ’ 

“But,’’ objected Mrs. Christie, aghast at this 
ruthless destruction of the hopes she had secretly 
entertained, “don’t you understand, she’s set on 
stayin’ right here with us?’’ 

“That’s all right,’’ said Silas. “And I don’t 
say as we’re not mighty glad to keep her here. 
And it do seem right. You’ve had the trouble 
of rearin’ her, and you had oughter have some 
good of her money. ’ ’ 

Once more Mrs. Christie was silent and waited, 
Silas being, as rarely happened, in a loquacious 
mood. She felt sure he would tell what was in 
his mind. She laid down her needles, however, 
and drew over the lamp on the table, and snuffed 


HOME AGAIN 


129 


the wick, carefully replacing the chimney and 
shade. After which she resumed her interrupted 
stocking. Great clouds of smoke were, mean- 
while, being sent forth from the clay pipe and 
completely enveloping the smoker. 

Presently he moved his hand to disperse them 
and blow them away, as a magician might dis- 
perse the dreams of enchantment. There was a 
suppressed sparkle of eagerness in the eyes of 
the wife, while she expected the unfolding of 
that project at which Silas had mysteriously 
hinted. What could it be? With all her years 
of training she could scarce restrain an impatient 
exclamation which rose to her lips and the 
eager question burning upon her tongue. 

“My notion is this,” Silas said, again, giving 
a preliminary cough. 

“For the land’s sake!” cried Mrs. Christie, 
“tell us what your notion is, and don’t beat 
around the bush. ’’ 

Mr. Christie stared. He narrowed his eyes 
under their bushy brows as he said, slowly, “I 
believe I’ll wait till to-morrow. It’s gettin’ late 
now. ’ ’ 

Then Mrs. Christie rose in her wrath, though 
never, for many a long year, had she controverted 
her husband’s views. 

“Silas Christie,” she cried, “you tell me right 
now. It won’t take any more’n a few minutes, 
any way, and I want to know.” 


130 


ARABELLA 


She was half afraid herself of this open defiance. 
She stood with her hands on the back of the 
chair and gazed at him, while he sat wreathed 
in smoke, like some grim geni. He regarded 
her for a few seconds in bewildered silence. He 
could scarcely remember when she had disputed 
his arbitrary will before, except, perhaps, as a 
slip of a girl. Then he burst out laughing. 

“So,” he said, “I reckon it won’t do to let 
you go down to town often. You’d get demoral- 
ized, I guess, like some of them women that are 
stumpin’ the country makin’ tarnation fools of 
themselves. But mebbe for this once I’ll let you 
have your way. So sit right down and listen. ’ ’ 
Mrs. Christie silently did as directed, and her 
husband proceeded to unfold his views. 


Chapter XIV. 


Sieas Christie’s Pean. 

“I reckon,” Silas Christie said, “that now 
Arabella’s got the cash she’ll want another sort 
of livin’ from what she can get here. And it’s 
in natur’ that she’ll have her fine city folks 
cornin’ down to visit her. Now, I’ve been 
thinkin’ as I sot here smokin’ that the best way 
to get ’round the matter was to build an addition 
to this here house. ’ ’ 

“Why,” cried Mrs. Christie, in astonishment, 
‘ ‘the house is a sight too big for us now. ’ ’ 

“That’s all right. But the house is mine and 
I intend it’ll stay so till I pass in my checks. 
That’s why I propose to build a two-story frame 
addition. It can take in a dinin’ room, a kitchen, 
a parlor, and a half dozen small sleepin’ rooms.” 

“But, look here,” objected Mrs. Christie, still 
doubtful and wondering, “how am I goin’ to do 
all that extry work? I got more’n enough to do 
now, I can tell you, and so has the help, and 
Arabella can’t do it as things are, if she’s got to 
go to school.” 


( 131 ) 


132 


ARABELLA 


“Wait a moment,” said Silas, “don’t cry out 
till you’re hurt. Who asked you to do any extra 
work, or Arabella, either? She kin have all the 
help she wants. And as for goin’ to school, 
why, I was thinkin’ of that, too.” 

He stopped and smoked a while, after the 
unwonted effort of these long sentences, and 
Mrs. Christie still waited, her faculties bewil- 
dered. 

“You were talking about the Purple Lady 
down yonder being hired to teach her. Waal, I 
guess she’s goin’ to undertake the job. I gave 
her a lift yesterday, as she was walkin’ through 
the woods.” 

“Gave her a lift?” echoed Mrs. Christie, won- 
dering much that he should have thus come into 
communication with that strange, solitary per- 
sonage who had hitherto held aloof from all the 
town. Silas Christie nodded, as he answered: 

“Yes, and glad enough to get it, too, she was. 
She’s gettin’ kinder feeble, I should judge; she’d 
walked farther than she was able, and found the 
way home a durned sight too long. ’ ’ 

Again the smoke clouds soared up almost to 
the rafters of the kitchen. 

“Besides, I knowed a thing or two about her, 
though she didn’t guess that I did. Her little 
place yonder is goin’ to be sold out by the sheriff 
a month from to-day, if she don’t pay up the 
rent.” 


SILAS CHRISTIE’S PLAN 


133 


“The Purple Tady’s house!” cried Mrs. 
Christie. “Waal, it’s goin’ to rack and ruin any- 
way, it ain’t fit for any one to live in.” 

“That’s so,” assented Silas, “but she’d got 
the letter from some of Arabella’s folks in New 
York, askin’ her to teach the girl and train her 
up to be a fine lady. She’s mighty pleased to 
undertake the job, only she began to cry and 
come right out with the truth about her house, 
not knowin’ as I was on to all that bizness 
before. So I said, says I, ‘You undertake that 
job and we’ll see about the rest.’ ” 

Mrs. Christie’s eyes opened wider and wider 
at every word. Her curiosity was at fever pitch. 

“Now,” continued Mr. Christie, impressively, 
“that old woman’s house is a good half mile 
from here, and spooks or no spooks, it’s a tumble- 
down old rookery, where, like as not, Arabella ’d 
get her death of cold. My notion is, mother, 
that as soon’s the addition’s built to this house, 
which will be in a few weeks’ time, we’ll bring 
the Purple L,ady straightway over here and let 
her set up housekeepin’ with Arabella. Then 
she kin have all the fine folks she wants down 
here and run the establishment jest the way 
them big bugs is used to. Arabella won’t have 
no long walks in the winter days, and every- 
thing’ll be as snug as a bug in a rug.” 

Mrs. Christie, heedless of the inelegance of 


134 


ARABELLA 


the comparison, was lost in admiration of the 
wisdom of this arrangement and the happy so- 
lution of all the difficulties. Arabella would still 
be under their roof, but would be perfectly free 
and independent. “The fine folks could come 
jest as often as they’d a mind, without her 
bein’ pestered to death in try in’ to have things 
to their likin’. For, as everybody knew, the Pur- 
ple L,ady was one of their own sort. Of course, 
it was a bit creepy to have her so near, but it 
would be a real charity to take her away from 
that tumble-down old ruin and give her a com- 
fortable home. ’ ’ 

So reasoned Mrs. Christie, while but one 
objection presented itself to her mind, and this 
she put into words. 

“Arabella used to be powerful scared of her. ’’ 

“Jerusha Jane, she must get over that non- 
sense,’’ cried Silas. “Why, the old woman’s as 
harmless as a tame kitten, and Arabella, she kin 
have two hired girls livin’ right in them rooms 
with her. Have you got anything else to say 
agin the plan?” 

“No, I ain’t,’’ answered Mrs. Christie. “It’s a 
real, good plan, and I don’t see how you ever 
come to think of it, Silas Christie.” 

The man chuckled and his wife continued : 

“Though I always did know you were mighty 
smart about lots of things when you set your 
mind to them.” 


SIIvAS CHRISTIE’S PLAN 


135 


Silas fairly beamed at the unwonted praise, 
for their busy lives had left them but little time 
for the amenities. The truth was, Mrs. Christie 
fairly fluttered with delight. Her impassive face 
shone, her eyes were alight, her cheeks glowed, 
as she nervously clasped and unclasped her 
hands. 

“You look ten years younger, Catherine,” 
said Silas, suddenly, “the jaunt down to town 
must have done you good. ’ ’ 

“ ’Taint that so much,’’ Mrs. Christie re- 
sponded, her eyes filling with tears, “it’s havin’ 
all these frets and worries straightened out. It’s 
real good of you, Silas, to take so much thought 
about it.” 

“I’d do more’n that for you, old girl,” the 
man replied. “I’m a rough hoss to travel with, 
but steady in the traces, and I guess I know how 
to value what I’ve got.” 

He patted her head with rough kindliness as 
he rose up to go at the warning sound of the 
kitchen clock, rusty somewhat upon its wheels, 
striking out eleven o’clock. After he had gone 
the rounds of the house, as was his custom, 
inspecting bolts and bars, Mrs. Christie sat 
alone, staring through the open door of the 
stove at the dying fire, her heart full to over- 
flowing with joy and thankfulness, that every- 
thing promised to be so happily arranged, and 


136 


ARABELLA 


that Silas had lent himself to the various plans 
and had even found means to work them out in 
an effective manner. 

Visions of the furnishing of that new wing, of 
visitors to come, of all the pleasant excitement 
that had been hitherto crowded out of her life, 
rushed upon her mind and caused her to linger 
for some time while the rest of the household 
was wrapped in dreamless slumber. 


Chapter XV. 
The Purple Tady. 


Next morning Silas Christie had relapsed into 
his wonted taciturnity, which was even increased 
by the calculations he was making about the 
quantity of lumber that would be required, and 
the number of men that could be set to work at 
once on the construction of the new wing. As 
he was going out the door, he turned back to 
say to his wife: 

“You tell the girl what I said and find out if 
she cares to go to the expense of having that 
addition made to the house, and let me know 
when I come back. ’ ’ 

Mrs. Christie had no doubt at all about that 
part of the matter. She knew that Arabella was 
to receive from that time forward a settled in- 
come, which she was free for the most part to 
expend as she saw fit. Silas was so far certain 
that, with characteristic energy, he occupied the 
interval of his absence in interviewing various 
mechanics, pricing the necessary materials and 
arranging, in fact, to have the work of construc- 
tion rushed. 


( 137 ) 


138 


ARABELLA 


After the breakfast dishes were washed up 
and the ordinary household work done, with the 
assistance, of course, of “the help,” a buxom lass 
from the village, Mrs. Christie summoned Ara- 
bella to a conference in the best parlor, whither 
the domestic was not likely to penetrate. As 
the elder woman had surmised, Arabella turned 
pale at the thought, not only that she was to be 
taught by, but actually to live in the house with 
the Purple L,ady. Fear of the latter personage 
was deeply ingrained in all the children of the 
neighborhood. Arabella had often flown, trem- 
blingly, past her house, where it stood isolated, 
in the dusk of summer evenings or in the wintry 
moonlight. 

“I’m scared of her,” she exclaimed, shudder- 
ingly, and Mrs. Christie very well knew that 
reasoning in such a matter was unavailing. 
Perhaps she was not altogether free herself 
from the superstition. But she had plenty of 
strong common sense, and as she knew there 
was much to be gained by overcoming what was 
probably an idle fear, she made up her mind to 
employ the very best means to that end. 

“Look here,” she decided, “I’ll get a horse 
harnessed up and you and me ’ll drive right over 
there. Nothin’ is so good for scary things as to 
get right close to them. ’ ’ 

Arabella at first shrank back in alarm from 


THE PURPLE LADY 


139 


this proposal. Still, in most respects, she was 
naturally fearless, and like many children she 
had a strong spice of the adventurous in her 
composition. The very audacity of the project 
appealed to her. To enter that dwelling which 
had always haunted her by its fascinating mys- 
tery seemed in itself worth doing. 

“When we’ve seen and spoken with her,” 
continued Mrs. Christie, “you kin make up 
your mind. If she scares you after that, thar’s 
no more to be said. The plan’s got to fall to 
the ground, and I guess you’ll have to go away 
to school for a spell.” 

Now, this was an alternative which Arabella 
by no means relished. Boarding-school had 
always seemed to her inexperienced mind as a 
place but little removed from a jail. Kvery 
other detail of Silas Christie’s plan had cap- 
tivated her. To live at the old homestead and 
yet to have a place which she could call home, 
and whither she could invite whom she pleased, 
seemed to her an ideal settlement of the affair. 

As the two drove along, Mrs. Christie, more- 
over, appealed to the sympathy of Arabella’s 
generous and compassionate heart by detailing 
all that Mr. Christie had said concerning the 
Purple Eady’s poverty and the danger of her 
house being sold over her head. 

“Oh,” cried Arabella, “even if we are too 


140 


ARABELLA 


much scared to have her come and live with us, 
I’ll pay for her house, that is, if I have enough 
money. ’ * 

“Enough money, child?” echoed Mrs. Chris- 
tie, “why, you could buy and sell pretty near the 
whole village if you’d a mind. But you mustn’t 
run away with the idea that you kin pay every- 
body’s debts and keep all the poor in the neigh- 
borhood. ’ ’ 

The little, old house at which they presently 
arrived was invested with a peculiar air of pri- 
vacy. It was surrounded by a little bit of 
ground fenced in with an iron railing, which 
lent it that exclusive, not to say mysterious, 
character which, no doubt, had done much to fos- 
ter its ill reputation. For in sociable Kenoosha 
most of the houses were built close to the street, 
so that everybody could enjoy a gossip with the 
neighbors. 

In the bit of ground the brown and seared 
grasses were plentifully sown with weeds; shrubs 
stood neglected and forlorn. The house itself, 
a wooden structure, almost bereft of paint, dis- 
played a worn and shabby appearance. The 
door was opened by a little woman bent nearly 
double from age or illness, and she presently 
ushered them into a small room where a sem- 
blance of comfort and refinement banished the 
rude spectres of poverty and neglect. There, 


THE PURPLE LADY 


141 


seated in a high-backed chair by the fire, was 
that personage of whom Arabella had hitherto 
caught only dim and shadowy glimpses, but 
whom she had never before beheld face to face 
— the Purple Lady herself. She was somewhat 
above the medium height, of fine, erect carriage, 
with unusually sloping shoulders, which gave 
her the appearance of an old portrait. Her 
hair, plentifully streaked with gray, was some- 
what elaborately arranged, though in the fashion 
of an elder day. Her face had the languor and 
weariness, with a curious pallor, which might 
have come from sorrow or ill-health. Yet it 
was a .striking countenance, once seen never to 
be forgotten. The eyes possessed a rare sweet- 
ness in their depths, as if they had looked only 
upon the beautiful things of life, her mouth was 
sensitive and gentle, her complexion of a rose- 
leaf softness. 

Her costume was of the inevitable hue which 
had procured for her from the people of Kenoo- 
sha her singular cognomen. It was of a deep 
tint of heliotrope shading into purple. She had 
never been known to wear any other color. 
She greeted her visitors with a perfect courtesy, 
which reminded both of Mrs. Winslow, only her 
manner far surpassed that other’s in the warm 
kindliness, the gentleness, instantaneously felt 
by all who came into her presence. When she 


142 


ARABELLA 


had heard Arabella’s name, she took Arabella’s 
roughened, stubby hand in both her own exquis- 
itely soft and delicate ones. 

“And this is the little girl of whom Clara 
Winslow wrote,’’ she said, in her soft voice. 
“Perhaps you know, my dear, that your aunt 
and I were great friends long ago, when I lived 
in New York. I also knew your father and — 
others of your relatives. ’ ’ 

Arabella continued to gaze at her with wide- 
open eyes, no longer of terror, but rather of 
admiration and of sympathy, born of the keen 
perception of childhood. 

“Well, what do you think of me?” asked the 
Purple Lady, with that smile which, from its 
very sadness, was unusually winning. “Shall 
you care to let me teach you?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” answered Arabella, decidedly. 
“I would like you to teach me better than any 
one. ’ ’ 

The lady smiled again, flushing slightly, as if 
pleased at the blunt declaration. 

“Well,” she said, “we shall have to see how 
it can be arranged. I may be moving away from 
here — ” 

Her voice trembled as she said those words, 
and Mrs. Christie interposed: 

“If you’re thinkin’ of movin’, why I guess 
that’ll make things pan out all right.” 


THE PURPLE LADY 


143 


The Purple Lady looked inquiringly, and 
Mrs. Christie proceeded to give, at least, an out- 
line of her husband’s plan. 

“So,” murmured the lady, in a low voice, 
and as if speaking to herself, “it is ever thus 
with those who trust in Providence. If one door 
is shut, another opens wide. ” 

And neither Arabella nor Catherine Christie 
understood precisely what the lady meant. 

However, that visit settled the matter. There 
was never any doubt after that that the Purple 
Lady was to be the presiding genius of Arabella’s 
future home, and it was, of course, arranged 
that she should bring with her her sole attendant, 
Margaret McCloskey, who had grown old in her 
service. 

When Silas Christie came into dinner that 
day he was very much gratified to hear where 
the two had been and with what results. He 
warmly commended his wife’s happy thought, 
and was much relieved at the information that 
Arabella had not only lost all fear of the Purple 
Lady, but had taken a great fancy to that myste- 
rious personage, and was most anxious to be 
under her tuition. 

Therefore, the work of building was hurried 
on with a degree of haste that had never been 
seen before in Kenoosha, and the new wing of 
the Christie household promised to be in a 


144 


ARABELLA 


very short time an accomplished fact. Arabella 
wrote in her childish, unformed hand to Miss 
Alicia telling her of all that had been under- 
taken, and reminding her of her promise to pay 
a long visit to Kenoosha in the following sum- 
mer. She also wrote to her cousins, a letter 
addressed to Carrie, but intended for the boys as 
well, and giving them all a cordial invitation to 
visit her whenever they chose, once her new 
quarters were completed. It may be supposed 
that she did not neglect her chief favorite 
amongst the new-found relatives, Mr. Frederick’s 
crippled daughter. 

Mrs. Winslow, taking Carrie’s letter down to 
the library, where sat Uncle Frederick, regarded 
the rough paper, the ill- spelt and worse ex- 
pressed ideas, the unformed, uneducated hand- 
writing, and said to her brother: 

“There is so very much to be done before we 
can make her presentable. ’ ’ 

“But splendid soil on which to work, golden 
stores for the digging,’’ added Uncle Frederick. 
“We may be thankful that, as matters stood, she 
fell into such safe hands, and that there is noth- 
ing perverted, nor mean, nor base about the 
child. Mark my words, she has the making of 
a fine woman. And,” he added, after a mo- 
ment’s pause, “Millicent Van Brugh must have 
changed very much , if she cannot smooth rough 


THE PURPLE LADY 


145 


places and temper the whole with her own fine 
culture. * * 

Mrs. Winslow cast a hasty glance at her 
brother as he said those words. For long before 
Millicent Van Brugh had been unhappily mar- 
ried, and had buried the sorrows of a premature 
widowhood as the Purple Eady of Kenoosha, 
and before good Mr. Frederick had married 
Marion’s mamma, it was generally supposed in 
the Allston’s exclusive circle that the two were 
destined for each other. 

“She was the sweetest, the purest, the noblest 
woman I ever met,” Mr. Frederick continued, 
thinking, as it were, aloud and gazing abstrac- 
tedly out of the window. “How strange it is 
that she whom I would have chosen out of the 
whole world to undertake such a task, should be 
thus providentially appointed to care for this 
poor waif, Jack’s only child.” 

“Yes,” assented Mrs. Winslow, “there could 
be, I feel assured, no better arrangement, and 
Millicent, if any one, can civilize the girl. I 
used to be very fond of Millicent. I should 
like to see her again. But as to this plan of 
Mr.—” 

She referred to Arabella’s letter, which she 
still held in her hand. 

“Mr. Christie,” said Mr. Frederick, somewhat 
curtly, supplying the information. 


146 


ARABELLA 


“Well, I think his plan a very good one, 
don’t you?” 

“In so far as I understand it, a capital one.” 
“It really shows,” pursued Mrs. Winslow, 
“considerable tact and consideration on the part 
of this man. It will make it so much easier for 
the cousins to know each other. I am sure, if 
MillicentVan Brugh is once in charge, I shall 
have no hesitation whatever in allowing Carrie 
and the boys to pay her a visit. ’ ’ 

“My Marion will give me no peace till I take 
her down there, whether the plan be carried 
out or not,” declared Mr. Frederick, “but I sup- 
pose that can scarcely be before the summer. ’ ’ 
“It will be summer before any of them can 
go,” Mrs. Winslow agreed. “I shouldn’t wish 
my children’s lessons to be interrupted sooner, 
and I am sure they will enjoy it better then.” 

So that Silas Christie’s plan met with the 
unanimous approval of every one of Arabella’s 
grand relations, and it set them all to anticipat- 
ing a delightful visit, for the young people, at 
least, as soon as the winter should have worn 
away, and the warm weather taken its place. 


Chapter XVI. 

Arabeiaa Becomes Mistress op a House. 

The work of construction proceeded very rap- 
idly under Silas’ vigilant superintendence. He 
never relaxed his efforts, nor permitted others to 
do so. And magically, almost, it seemed, the 
new wing was added to the Christie homestead. 
Day by day, Arabella watched with wondering 
eyes, and Mrs. Christie, with far more practical 
ones, the gradual progress of the work. By 
special arrangement with her landlord, the Pur- 
ple L,ady remained in her former domicile, and 
Arabella went thither daily to begin her lessons. 
For she herself was anxious to lose no time. 
She wanted to learn as much and know as much 
as her cousins. And having so many hopes, so 
many pleasant anticipations, she had the more 
incentive to learn, and her intelligence was kept 
bright and active. 

In the course of a very few weeks the new 
domicile was roofed over and heated, and it 
became one of Arabella’s great pleasures to be 
permitted to roam through the empty rooms, to 
( 147 ) 


148 


ARABELLA 


plan all sorts of plans, and to play her solitary 
plays in and out of the corner cupboards, the 
linen press, the china cupboard, and the pantry. 

A delightful period for her was that of decorat- 
ing and furnishing the interior. Of course, she 
was mainly guided by the counsels of her in- 
structress, who conferred with a special agent 
sent down by a leading firm of decorators in 
New York. Each room had its idea, and the 
idea was in the best possible taste. The blue 
color scheme prevailed here and pink there, 
yellow in yet another, neutral tints here and 
warm hues there. The painting was, of course, 
in harmony with the papering, and the car- 
pets, likewise, matched. The prettiest, the most 
dainty curtains were secured for the plate-glass 
windows, a few choice water-colors and engrav- 
ings were put upon the walls. The furniture 
was purchased for each room according to its 
size and the general character of the establish- 
ment. Nothing heavy, nothing massive was 
permissible. 

“It looks just as cheerful as Uncle Frederick’s 
house,” said Arabella, who had learned at last 
to distinguish her new relations one from the 
other, and to call them by their proper names. 

“I guess it does!” cried Mrs. Christie. “There 
ain’t anything more cheerful than this.” 

For she took almost as much pride and pleas- 


ARABELLA BECOMES MISTRESS 


149 


ure in the arrangements as Arabella herself, and 
never allowed a thought of envy to creep into 
her mind, though it was sometimes hard, as she 
perceived the contrast between this exquisite 
little abode and her own dingy rooms, carpet- 
less, or with threadbare coverings. 

Arabella, however, in conjunction with the 
Purple L,ady, and with Silas’ knowledge and 
consent, planned a surprise for Mrs. Christie, 
and ordered, with the other carpets from New 
York, a handsome Brussels stair-carpet, and rugs 
of the same durable texture, for the “best parlor, ’ ’ 
dining-room and her own bed-room, with curtains 
and various other odds and ends, which consid- 
erably changed the aspect of the Christie home- 
stead. By some maneuvering on the conspira- 
tor’s part, Silas took his wife away to a neigh- 
boring village for the whole afternoon. While 
they were gone the improvements were made, 
Arabella running up and down in glee and 
superintending everything. When Mrs. Christie 
returned home, she was so delighted that she 
sat down and cried with pure joy and gratitude. 

One of the things which most interested Ara- 
bella was the arrangement of her own kitchen, 
with its gas stove and coal-range, its rows of 
shining copper vessels, its dresser, and its com- 
plete outfit, even to a spice-box. She took the 
keenest pleasure in helping to stock the store- 


150 


ARABELLA 


room and pantry with groceries and other sup- 
plies. The Purple Lady, who should have been 
more correctly called Mrs. Wharton, declared that 
with Arabella’s practical training and her own 
intimate knowledge of the proper conduct of a 
household, she was going to make the little girl 
into a model housekeeper. 

The vital question of servants was satisfac- 
torily solved by the importation of two nieces of 
Margaret McCloskey, strong, willing and capa- 
ble girls, with bright faces and kind hearts, who 
were intelligent enough to understand that 
everything they learned of domestic economy 
was so much gain to themselves. 

Altogether, the household promised to be a 
very happy one, and Mrs. Wharton had seen to 
it that the element of religion was not excluded. 
A small, three-cornered room, which Arabella 
considered one of the prettiest in the house, was 
fitted up as an oratory, with a beautiful picture 
of the Sacred Heart, a statue of the Blessed Vir- 
gin and a handsome crucifix. There, as Mrs. 
Wharton arranged, they were to have morning 
and evening devotions. She also invited the 
parish priest, Father Dolan, to come over and 
bless the house. 

“It is beautiful,” she said, “to have a priestly 
blessing, the blessing of God, on the very thresh- 
old of your new life, my dear. It will increase 


ARABELLA BECOMES MISTRESS 151 

joy and lessen sorrow, and, like the patriarchs 
of old, you will be living and moving under the 
shadow of the Most High.” 

Mrs. Christie was deeply moved by all these 
things. The tears came into her eyes as she 
stood in the oratory. It reminded her of school 
days at the Sisters’ Academy in New York, 
where she had been as a little girl. 

“My, ain’t it beautiful!” she exclaimed, as 
she stood in the oratory, and it flashed into her 
mind that she and Arabella had both missed 
much in all these years, by being deprived, as it 
were, of the vital warmth which alone can bring 
true comfort and happiness into any home. The 
blessing of the house was quite a function. 
Even Silas and some of his Methodist relations 
were present, and declared that it was quite a 
pretty ceremony, and that there was nothing 
against Scripture, either. 

At last came the great day of moving in. A 
furniture van, under Silas’ direction, went over 
to the Purple Lady’s now dismantled home, to 
convey her belongings to the new quarters. 
They served to give a touch of distinction to the 
little household, which the newness of its ap- 
pointments might otherwise have lacked. Some 
old china, some superfine glass, a few pictures 
and dainty ornaments, several quaint chairs and 
sofas, were such as could not be bought for love 
or money. 


152 


ARABELLA 


And quietly, after all, the two, with Margaret 
McCloskey and her nieces, took possession of the 
new abode. Arabella, for the first time, as mis- 
tress of her own house, sat down at the little 
round table in the dining-room, which, in its air 
of home-like comfort, reminded her of Miss 
Alicia’s house; in its dainty appointments, of 
the Winslow’s stately dining-room; in its per- 
fect cheerfulness, of Uncle Frederick’s apart- 
ments. 

Mr. and Mrs. Christie came to high tea with 
them on the following day, which was a delight- 
ful occasion to Arabella, though she felt a little 
shy of playing hostess. Mrs. Wharton, how- 
ever, assured her that she must get accustomed 
to that role, since she expected to entertain so 
many visitors during the summer. 

So Arabella entered upon her new life, under 
the wise guardianship of the Purple Uady, who, 
by her influence, example, and constant watch- 
fulness, was to effect such a change in the little 
girl’s manners, appearance and views of life. 
That personage herself, so long mysterious, still 
wore her picturesque, if somewhat old-fashioned, 
gowns, in various shades of a pansy, so that she 
often reminded those who looked at her of that 
flower. She had a wonderful power of adapta- 
bility to her surroundings, and as the neighbors 
gradually lost their awe of her, she became a 


ARABELLA BECOMES MISTRESS 


153 


mighty influence for good in that neighborhood. 
Arabella became, through her influence, a pious 
and charitable little girl, Mrs. Christie, a prac- 
tical Catholic. The prejudices of Silas and of 
his “folks” disappeared wonderfully when they 
saw a fine lady like her, who had so long lived 
amongst them, as an “angel unawares,” attend- 
ing the Catholic church, which improved health 
now permitted her to do, together with Arabella, 
and, as was afterwards seen, her grand relations. 
A whole volume might be written, and yet leave 
much unsaid, as to the new dwelling and its 
occupants. But it will be only possible within 
the limits of the present story to chronicle the 
arrival of the long-anticipated guests, and a few 
of those events which marked the limits of their 
visit. 



Chapter XVII. 

The Grand Relations Come to Kenoosha. 

On a beautiful day in June, Arabella stood 
once more where she had stood that other day, 
with wild flowers, the children of the soil, up- 
springing once more at her feet. She looked at 
the blue arch of heaven and the sunlight mead- 
ows all around, and thought she must surely 
have been dreaming. She was clad no longer 
in a coarse, brown frock and stubby shoes, but 
in a neat and very pretty print, her hair, shining 
and glossy, tied by a ribbon, her shoes fitting 
her feet perfectly, her hands much softened, her 
cheeks glowing, indeed, but her whole counte- 
nance refined and improved by her spiritual and 
mental development, and the growth of her 
knowledge. 

She was as impatient as any little girl could 
be, and thought she would never hear the whistle 
of the noon train by which Alicia was, first of 
all, to arrive. She had demurred very much 
about coming at the same time as the “grand 
relations. ’ ’ But Arabella, with that sturdy force 
( 155 ) 


156 


ARABELLA 


of character, which developed every day, in- 
sisted. Alicia had finally compromised by de- 
claring that she would come to Kenoosha and 
stay with the Christies in their part of the home- 
stead, while being able to give as much time as 
seemed advisable to Arabella. 

Silas had driven over to get her himself, in 
the buggy, and the train was presently heard in 
the distance, and soon after the sound of wheels. 
The little girl forgot all those manners in which 
she was being drilled every day, but which left 
great scope for freedom and naturalness, and ran 
far down the road to meet the carriage, only 
having to run back again, to be at the foot of the 
steps when Alicia should alight. Laughing and 
crying together, the two flew into each other’s 
arms, whence Mrs. Christie extricated her sister 
to give her a cordial embrace, while the Purple 
Lady came forward with gracious cordiality to do 
her share in the greeting. 

Though the others were not to arrive till the 
afternoon train, Arabella no longer found the 
time of waiting tedious. She had to show Alicia 
all over her house. Not even a corner was 
omitted, the visitor wanting to see everything. 
As Arabella said, she was the most delightful 
person to show things to, for she was interested 
in the smallest detail, and asked a thousand 
questions, and was loud in her admiration of the 


THE GRAND RELATIONS 


157 


whole. She and the Purple Uady were friends 
from the first, since there was a real affinity 
between them, despite the difference in their 
position and upbringing. 

In the afternoon, Silas, who had hired a ’bus 
from a neighbor to accommodate all the expected 
guests, invited Arabella to accompany him to 
the station, which she did, nothing loath. 
When, therefore, Mrs. Winslow looked out from 
the car window, as the train came steaming in, 
she remarked at once to her brothers that she 
would never have known Arabella. The girl, 
strong and large of frame, to be sure, and with 
a healthy color in her cheeks, was neat and 
carefully dressed, and smart and trim in appear- 
ance. Upon this transformation George like- 
wise remarked as soon as he descended from the 
car. 

“I say, Arabella,” he cried. “You look 
exactly like one of those city girls we see on 
Fifth Avenue, only your face is redder.” 

‘‘George!” exclaimed Mrs. Winslow, severely, 
and the boy was instantly reduced to silence. 
Arabella was, nevertheless, elated by the remark, 
and felt much more confidence in shaking hands 
with her uncles, Frederick and Robert, the latter 
of whom, it must be owned, she was very much 
surprised to see, standing upon the platform. 
He held Arabella’s hand in his, and seemed so 


158 


ARABELLA 


unaffectedly kind and so glad to see his niece 
again, that from that moment the latter liked 
him almost as well as his brother. Shaking 
hands cordially with Reginald, the young host- 
ess inquired, anxiously, where were the others, 
Carrie and Marion. 

“Oh, they are here,” cried Uncle Frederick, 
who was waiting at the steps of the train to take 
his daughter from the negro mammy. “We 
have left no one behind. ’ ’ 

Marion’s face looked wan and tired after the 
journey, but she clapped her hands at sight of 
Arabella. 

“Oh, Carrie! there she is,” she cried joyfully, 
and as Arabella rushed over to kiss her and bid 
her welcome, she added: “I am so glad to get 
here at last and to see you again, Cousin.” 

After that, every body was introduced to Mr. 
Silas Christie, and bundled into the ’bus, which 
began to drive away very slowly on account of 
Marion. For Silas was already much interested 
in her, and as gentle and sympathetic in settling 
her comfortably in the vehicle as any woman 
could have been. The villagers all came forth 
to their doors to stare at Arabella’s “grand rela- 
tions,” and the dogs barked as though they were 
giving a welcome of their own. 

The children of the party, inhaling the pleasant 
country scents, the sweet clover and the blossom- 


THE GRAND RELATIONS 


159 


ing trees, loudly expressed their delight, whilst 
their elders in more subdued fashion commented 
on the freshness and balminess of the country 
air. 

At the homestead, Mrs. Christie and the Purple 
I*ady — Alicia retiring to the background — stood 
side by side to receive the visitors, forming as 
complete a contrast to each other as could be 
imagined, but on the most friendly and cordial 
of terms. 

As the ’bus drove up to the door, Mrs. Wins- 
low said, in an undertone to her brother, who 
sat nearest, “Why, Frederick, Millicent is as 
beautiful as ever.” 

“You should rather say, ‘more beautiful than 
ever,’ ” declared Mr. Frederick, who had been 
keenly observing the two upon the steps. His 
mind was busy with the past in that brief inter- 
val until be found himself shaking hands, court- 
eously but quite conventionally, with the former 
Millicent Van Brugh, and calling her Mrs. 
Wharton. 

“You have heard the nickname for me in 
Kenoosha,” said the person so addressed, with a 
smile, “and it is so very convenient.” 

“Am I to call you the Purple Lady, then?” 
he said, quietly. “Shall I move a general 
resolve that we all adopt that name?” 

“I don’t think I can ever remember anything 


160 


ARABELLA 


but Millicent,” exclaimed Mrs. Winslow, with 
unwonted warmth. 

Mrs. Wharton pressed her hand. 

“Old friend/ ’ she answered, “it matters very- 
little what you and I call each other, for we 
have the past to bind us together. ’ ’ 

“That sounds very much like leaving us two 
out in the cold,” said Mr. Frederick to Mr. 
Robert. 

“Which has been done before,” added. Mr. 
Robert, and the remark may possibly have sug- 
gested to some amongst the little party assembled 
at the moment on the homestead steps, that 
whatever had been the case with Mr. Frederick, 
Mr. Robert had, for this woman’s sake, preferred 
single blessedness. 

Mrs. Christie’s impassive face and undemon- 
strative demeanor relaxed as much as possible in 
the heartiness of her welcome. Presently, how- 
ever, the whole party were hurried in doors, and 
through a passage which led from the main 
entrance hall straight into Arabella’s delightful 
and almost fairy-like home. 


Chapter XVIII. 

A Houseful of Guests. 

Arabella made a charming hostess, with the 
Purple Lady in the background to keep her, as 
it were, up to the mark, and offer timely sug- 
gestions. There was, moreover, about the girl 
a sturdy character, inherited, probably, from 
dead and gone generations, which enabled her 
to rise to the occasion and acquit herself credita- 
bly of her duties as entertainer. Everything 
possible for the comfort and pleasure of the 
house-party was thought out and planned 
between these two, and therein they were ably 
seconded by Mrs. Christie and Aunt Alicia. 
Both of these latter were brought, in spite of 
themselves, very much to the front, by the desire 
of Arabella and the easy good breeding of the 
guests. Gentle little Alicia became a prime 
favorite with every one, while the sterling quali- 
ties of her sister were fully appreciated. 

Silas Christie, aroused out of his taciturnity, 
especially when in company with Mr. Robert, 
Mr. Frederick and the boys, was a host in him- 


( 161 ) 


162 


ARABELLA 


self. He guided the masculine portion of the 
party to the best places for fishing and boating. 
He drove them to the most inaccessible places, 
and introduced them to half the country side. 
He had not the slightest awe of any of the fine 
folk, not even Mrs. Winslow herself, and his 
blunt simplicity of manner atoned in their eyes 
for his want of polish. 

During the week which Mr. Frederick, Mr. 
Robert and their sister remained at Kenoosha, it 
is quite possible that one or both brothers would 
have been glad to renew their former relations 
with Millicent Van Brugh, but the latter, who 
understood the art of gracefully effacing herself, 
made them understand in her gentlest and most 
gracious fashion, that the belle of long ago no 
longer existed. 

“My life is enveloped in the shadows,’ ’ she 
said, half jesting, “the purple shadows which 
come at evening, and which can never take on 
the glory of morning. So you see that I have 
been well named.” 

In this fanciful manner she defined her atti- 
tude, and once she said to Mrs. Winslow, as she 
caught a wistful look upon her face: 

“It is very peaceful, Clara. You must not 
pity me.” 

The children, of course, knew nothing of 
this little by-play, nor that one or two of their 


A HOUSEFUL OF GUESTS 


163 


elders went away with real regret in their hearts. 
All the younger members of the party were left 
behind, the negro mammy charging herself with 
a general superintendence of those who needed 
her care. 

Such a period of pure enjoyment as began 
after that it would be difficult to chronicle in 
cold black and white. For, after all, it is diffi- 
cult to set down those delightful outings in the 
country, the wanderings through woods and cool, 
shaded roads, the drives on hay carts, the fish- 
ing, the bathing, the wading in cool streams, 
the rowing, or the sailing, or the driving. The 
boys in particular were devoted to out-door 
sports, George being on intimate terms with half 
the boys in the village, and rejoicing in the 
freedom he enjoyed of “getting to know other 
fellows,” even if they wore shabby clothing, and 
in some instances had no shoes at all upon their 
feet. He liked going out with Mr. Christie in 
all sorts of vehicles and helping him at any work, 
picking up quaint expressions from him and 
quite winning the old man’s heart. One day 
George said confidentially to Arabella: 

“I wish mother would let me come down 
here to live. I’d like to be a farmer or some- 
thing like that. It’s tiresome being rich and 
living in a brown stone house. ’ ’ 

“Still, it’s nice to have money,” said Arabella, 


164 


ARABELLA 


from the height of her experience. “I’ve tried 
both, and I know.” 

“Oh, it’s all right for you, because you’ve 
got a house, or, at all events, a wing of your 
own, and, anyhow, you’re a girl. Every boy 
ought to be poor. ’ ’ 

“You might give away all your wealth,” sug- 
gested Marion, who sat near, supported by 
cushions. 

“I can’t give it away,” grumbled George, 
“because I haven’t got it, but it’s there, and I 
have to be a rich boy whether I like it or not. 
Now Carrie likes to be rich. She always wants 
good clothes and things. ’ ’ 

“Carrie has got some sense,” cried Reginald, 
taking up the cudgels for his little sister, who, 
quite undisturbed by the accusation, sat com- 
placently dressing a doll. 

“Not so much as Arabella,” retorted George, 
“because she was poor once.” 

“Oh, shut up with your theories,” exclaimed 
Reginald, “Arabella will think you crazy.” 

“No, she won’t,” cried George, waxing some- 
what fierce. 

“You ought to be satisfied, George,” Marion 
put in, gravely. “What would you do if you 
were like me, and what would I do if I were 
poor? Everybody ought to be satisfied. ’ ’ 

“So they ought, honey,” agreed the negro 


A HOUSEFUE OF GUESTS 


165 


mammy, “and the good Eord He gibs everybody 
what’s best for them to hab. Sure enough, 
honey. ’ ’ 

George, finding public opinion thus against 
him, was reduced to silence, but drummed dis- 
contentedly on the window, and resolved in his 
mind various socialistic theories, only the usual 
order was reversed, and he did not want to pos- 
sess himself of somebody else’s wealth, but to 
get rid of his own. Arabella, seeing him thus 
disconsolate, followed him over to the window 
and addressed him with her usual common 
sense : 

“There’s no use bothering about it now,” she 
said. “When you’re a man you can give away 
your money, if you want to, and be a farmer or 
anything you like.” 

A further diversion was made by Silas putting 
his head into the room to announce that he had 
hired a yacht to take them all, including Marion 
and the mammy, and even Aunt Alicia, for a 
sail. It was after their return that evening that 
a story-telling party was suggested, and they all, 
with the exception of Silas, who had gone to 
play cards with a neighbor, and Mrs. Christie, 
who was busy in her own quarters, assembled in 
Arabella’s parlor. The negro mammy, by special 
request, led off with a blood-curdling tale of her 
far-off Southland, “in dem cruel slav’ry days,” 


166 


ARABELLA 


which she told with her soft, Southern accent, 
and with unconscious dramatic power. She 
brought vividly before her listeners’ minds the 
hut in the brushwood, where lived a hunted 
fugitive, and the supposed ghost, which haunted 
the fever swamp, but which turned out to be a 
“poor colored man, as had lost all de wits de 
good Lord gibbed him.’’ The listeners could 
almost see the waving of palms, the clumps of 
dark foliage, enlivened by fireflies, and the 
hissing of reptiles in the slimy marshes. When 
the story was almost at its most terrifying climax, 
steps were heard approaching through the pas- 
sage, and everybody jumped. It proved to be 
nothing more formidable, however, than Mrs. 
Christie herself, with a large dish of hot pop 
corn, which she had just manufactured. 

“Aunt’’ Alicia was next called upon for a 
story, and told a very pretty one, but not at all 
frightful, since neither she nor the Purple Lady 
were in favor of over-exciting the imaginations 
of children, and especially delicate ones like 
Marion. Her story was a true one, of a little 
flower-girl who sold her wares every day on 
Twenty-third St. , and who saved every penny to 
support an aged and bed-ridden grandmother. 
At last, one day, the child herself was rendered, 
for the time being, helpless. She was run down 
by an automobile, and had to be taken to a hos- 


A HOUSEFUL OF GUESTS 


167 


pital. The driver of the motor proved to be a 
man of heart. He learned the history of the 
little flower-girl, interested himself in her wel- 
fare, as she gradually recovered, and undertook 
to provide, thenceforward, for both herself and 
her grandmother. The little girls, in particular, 
were charmed with this story, and declared that 
they should like to follow that gentle employ- 
ment, which Alicia so graphically described, and 
tie up roses and violets and tuberoses and lilies 
of the valley, heliotrope, mignonette and carna- 
tions into bunches, and sell them to all comers. 

The final story was told by the Purple Eady, 
who sat in the centre of the ring, her fine face 
full of thought and expression as she made haste 
to comply with the request of Arabella and the 
eager circle of listeners. She was very fond of 
telling quaint legends of little stories from the 
lives of the Saints for the instruction and edifica- 
tion of her pupil and these others who were 
temporarily in her care. And on this occasion 
she told, with much grace and beauty of diction, 
a tale of a gentle lad, a scholar in an ancient 
English monastery who, during his whole life, 
had had a great devotion to the Queen of Heaven. 
He lay upon a bed of mortal illness, and being 
rapt in ecstacy, beheld upon a throne of glory 
the Blessed Virgin herself, surrounded by a 
resplendent company of saints and angels. The 


168 


ARABELLA 


Heavenly Lady inquired whether the youth 
would prefer to remain longer upon earth or to 
enter at once into that happy society. And he, 
seeing no sadness on the faces of those blessed 
people, begged that he might join them without 
delay. Then returning to consciousness, he 
told the L,ord Abbot, and, as it were, obtaining 
his permission, mounted upwards to join that 
blissful company. 

Now, this story very well prepared every one 
for the evening devotions in the oratory. They, 
in their turn, were concluded by the singing of 
a hymn to the Blessed Virgin. This was so 
lustily rendered by all those young singers, that 
the praises of the Queen were sent far away 
through that atmosphere, which had never 
before vibrated to such supplications as: 

“Show Thyself a Mother, 

Offer Him our sighs 
Who for us incarnate 
Did not Thee despise. ’ ’ 


Chapter XIX. 

Conclusion. 

It would be pleasant to continue this story of 
Arabella indefinitely, and to show how she 
improved and developed, learning the right 
use of money and its almost unlimited power for 
good, showing herself a devout and exemplary 
member of that little church in the neighboring 
parish, which she had so long attended and 
acting as its bountiful benefactress, until such 
time as, through her help and exertions, Ke- 
noosha could boast a sanctuary of its own. All 
this and much more might be told. How she 
cheered and brightened the cold and comfortless 
life at the homestead, and gave its two occupants 
a new interest in everything; how she visited 
Alicia, the Winslows, and Uncle Frederick, in 
turn, and how they and the children, Carrie and 
Marion, Reginald and George, came back many 
times to Kenoosha, and always regarded their 
sojourn there as amongst the pleasantest of their 
experiences. 

But as it is not possible within the limits of a 
single story to penetrate thus into the future, it 
( 169 ) 


170 


ARABELLA 


is better merely to relate one or two incidents 
which marked the close of that first holiday 
time, when the children from town came to make 
the acquaintance of their newly found cousin, 
It may be remembered that Carrie had brought 
her pony and pony-carriage from town, and in 
this vehicle the children in turn took the most 
delightful drives. The pony was regarded as 
perfectly safe, no one ever apprehending that he 
would one day kick up his heels and run away. 
Yet this was what actually happened, and in the 
following manner. The two boys, George and 
Reginald, had gone fishing with Silas, and Ara- 
bella had walked over to the village, a distance 
of about half a mile, to ask for letters at the 
Post Office. Meantime Carrie had arranged to 
take Marion for a little drive and she had been 
carefully packed into the seat by the Mammy. 
It was a radiantly beautiful morning, such as 
only June can show, and which in its last ling- 
ering days it seems to intensify. The abundant 
foliage waved softly in a light breeze. The 
lanes and the roadside were overflowing with 
luxuriant bloom, the sky was nearly cloudless. 
The two little girls went along for some time in 
complete enjoyment and as they supposed, in 
perfect security. Neither of them could tell pre- 
cisely what happened, possibly the broken 
branch of an overhanging tree, making weird 


CONCLUSION 


171 


shadows on the sward and striking the animal as 
he passed. Whatever was the cause, the effect 
was as certain as it was sudden. The pony 
stretched his limbs and fairly flew, getting com- 
pletely beyond Carrie’s control and dashing 
frantically, they knew not whither, on, on, with 
the chance of another vehicle colliding with 
theirs, or of being dashed over the high cliff 
downwards into the lake. Happily for the chil- 
dren, there was something in their training 
which had taught them self control, for they sat 
rigid and immovable with white, set faces and a 
prayer arising to their lips. 

Meantime Arabella, having called at the Post 
Office, was returning homeward, lingering by 
the roadside to pick a flower here and there, and 
feeling the full enjoyment of the exquisite 
weather. Suddenly she heard the sound of 
wheels, and presently of flying hoofs. She 
stood still and listened, her ear was trained, and 
she knew that country folks did not usually 
drive at so reckless a pace. She moved to the 
side of the road and waited. Then she saw, in 
one swift glance, the familiar pony, flying as no 
one dreamed he could have flown, his mane 
in disorder, his eyes wild with fright. She 
saw likewise, the white, agonized faces of the 
children, and knowing that one of them was 
Marion, realized what it meant. The danger 


172 


ARABELLA 


was imminent for them, it would be more so for 
her, if she did the only possible thing, and tried 
to stop the animal in its headlong career. She 
remembered a lesson, which the Purple I^ady 
had been reading only lately: 

“Greater love hath no man than this, that he 
lay down his life for his brother.” 

The words flashed into her mind as she 
steadied herself and sprang forward, to save her 
two cousins and particularly that helpless one, 
for the sake of Christ. She planted herself 
firmly in the road and snatched at the bridle. 
The pony reared, plunged, struggled and darted 
forward again, dragging her with him. But 
she would not lose her hold, though her hands 
and knees were torn and bleeding and her 
strength seemed wholly unavailing. Neverthe- 
less, the speed of the beast was checked, this 
weight clinging upon him and the pulling of the 
bridle, he began to slacken his pace, and finally 
stood still, trembling violently and covered with 
sweat, not half a dozen paces from the edge of 
the cliff. 

It seemed almost miraculous that Arabella es- 
caped with severe cuts and bruises, indeed, but 
without any serious injury. There were mo- 
ments when the two in the phaeton believed that 
she would be killed before their eyes, and the 
doctor, who was called in, could scarcely believe 


CONCLUSION 


173 


that no bones were broken, and that, so far as 
he could discover, there was no internal injury. 
The feelings of the negro Mammy, of Mrs. 
Christie and of Mrs. Wharton, may be better 
imagined than described. Grave fears were like- 
wise entertained that Marion in particular might 
suffer from nervous shock. But no such thing 
occurred. Her health, which had very much 
mended during her stay in the country, re- 
mained quite unimpaired, as did that of little 
Carrie. Mrs. Wharton was <able, in fact, to 
write quite a satisfactory report of the affair both 
to Mrs. Winslow and Uncle Frederick. The 
latter was so relieved and so grateful to Arabella 
that he sent down on the very next day the most 
beautiful little diamond incrusted watch, within 
which was inscribed: 

* ‘To a heroine, with a father’s grateful thanks. ’ ’ 

And a heroine Arabella was, not only in the 
household, but to the whole village, so that 
there would have been great danger of her getting 
spoiled only for her strong common sense. She 
was up and around in a few days again. At 
first she had to remain in the house and amuse 
herself in various plays with Marion and Carrie. 
They played with dolls, and they played house 
and grocery -store, and a number of those other 
games wherein children of the gentler sex particu- 
larly delight. They also heard many a story from 


174 


ARABELLA 


the Mammy, who could not do enough for Ara- 
bella to show her gratitude. And certainly both 
Mrs. Christie, Mrs. Wharton and Alicia testified, 
by every means in their power, their affection 
for the little girl and their deep thankfulness and 
rejoicing that she had been spared to them. 
Marion and Carrie were forevermore devoted to 
their cousin, and a nice, long letter came from 
Mrs. Winslow, which only a mother could 
write, and which few would have expected from 
that quarter. She thanked Arabella in the most 
moving terms for the services rendered to her 
darling Carrie, and prayed heaven to bless her 
with its choicest favors. Those were very pleas- 
ant, happy days, never to be forgotten, whatso- 
ever the changes or vicissitudes of after life. 
And from that time Arabella’s position in the 
entire family was established on that most secure 
of basis — love and admiration. 

She progressed so favorably that she was able 
to be present at the grand celebration which 
marked the last day of her guests’ visit to 
Kenoosha. After that they were all going away 
again, and things were to resume much of their 
former course at the homestead. This celebra- 
tion took the form of a picnic to a lovely spot, a 
forest nook, in the glen overlooking the lake. 

Mrs. Christie, Margaret McCloskey and the 
two maids had been busy for days previous in 


CONCLUSION 


175 


preparing the contents of the huge hampers, 
which were put into the ’bus driven by Silas 
himself. This vehicle accommodated the whole 
party, the domestics included. It was another 
glorious day, though June had given place to 
July, and it was quite warm enough to make the 
fresh, cool shelter of the woods and the breezes 
from the water delightful. Under the umbra- 
geous shadows of oaks, hemlocks, birches and 
other forest monarchsthe party gathered. With 
scents of pine, fir, sassafras and the countless 
odors of the woodlands regaling their nostrils. 

In the various sports which were indulged in, 
Reginald, yielding himself to the joy of the 
moment, was quite as active as George. Silas 
forgot his taciturnity, and chuckled with positive 
delight. Mrs. Christie and Alicia entered en- 
tirely into the spirit of the occasion, and the 
Purple L,ady, by her quiet, tactful suggestions 
and infinite resource, was a host in herself. 

Marion sat with the mammy under a great 
oak, her wan cheeks glowing with health, her 
eyes bright, while Carrie and Arabella brought 
her as much as possible into all their games, and 
offered her acorns and flowers and sassafras root 
and all the forest treasures. 

The boys, under Silas’ direction, and taking all 
necessary precautions, built a fire, where water 
was boiled and coffee made by more skillful 


176 


ARABELLA 


hands than theirs. Potatoes and peanuts were 
roasted in the embers, morsels of cold meat 
spitted on forks and browned, while presently 
the contents of the hamper were unpacked. All 
the children except, of course, Marion, helped 
in this important ceremony. Tablecloths were 
spread on green knolls, one for the elders, the 
other for the young folk, with huge bunches of 
wild flowers in the centre. Japanese napkins 
and wooden plates were arranged, and the good 
things displayed in delightful profusion. Cold 
chickens and freshly boiled ham, jellied tongue 
and a pigeon pie, with cake and ice cream and 
jelly, and home-made candy, supplemented by a 
large box sent down from town by Uncle Robert, 
who, it may be mentioned, had kept Arabella 
well supplied during her late illness. 

Healths were drunk in ginger ale and lemon- 
ade; the Purple l,ady’s health and Mrs. Chris- 
tie’s, Mr. Christie’s and Aunt Alicia’s, Mrs. 
Winslow’s, Mr. Frederick’s and Mr. Robert’s; 
everybody’s health, in short. But the most 
impressive moment was when Reginald arose to 
propose Arabella’s health, which George sup- 
plemented by springing to his feet and suggesting 
an addition: 

“Three cheers for Arabella! May she live long 
and prosper. ’ ’ 

This latter sentiment was, of course, a quota- 


CONCLUSION 


177 


tion which he had learned, but it fitted the occa- 
sion and was promptly adopted by his hearers. 

“Three cheers for Arabella !” echoed all the 
children, and the deep voice of Silas, “Hip, hip, 
Hurrah ! may she live long and prosper !” and 
with that sentiment, which the woodlands re- 
echoed and carried far over the lake, and which 
was repeated next day at the station, just 
before the train bore the guests away, this nar- 
rative may as well come to a close. The words 
seemed to ring in Arabella’s ears, as she remain- 
ed with tear-dimmed eyes upon the platform and 
watched the slowly disappearing train, and they 
followed her homeward, and haunted her, when 
she stood gazing once more at the homestead, 
with its cheerful, new wing, at the familiar sur- 
roundings, at the sky, now brilliant in the sunset- 
ting, and thought of all that had come and gone. 
While she stood thinking the deep thoughts of 
childhood, the words seemed almost as a prophecy 
and a prayer, uttered in all sincerity by those 
childish voices and from the depths of unspoiled 
hearts. 

“May you live long and prosper, Arabella. 
May you live long and prosper. ’ ’ 




































































































■ 



















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































♦ 










» 
























































I 



















' .% 


I 








DEC 11 1907 




■* 















' 





















































'uj;* *-• 
































• . 

■ 















V- 

I 



































































» 




















LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 





